


Sweet as a Georgia Peach

by thankskarlmarx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arthur Weasley loves muggles, Bickering, Canon Compliant, Cute Teddy Lupin, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fred Weasley Dies, George Weasley learns muggle things, Hermione has cold feet, Molly Weasley is concerned, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance, Sad George Weasley, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29979507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankskarlmarx/pseuds/thankskarlmarx
Summary: George Weasley hasn't laughed much since his brother died. He gets overcharged at Madam Malkin's by a sassy southern American witch and his frown gets turned upside down.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Reader, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32





	1. an important business meeting

A drop of blood fell from Morgan’s finger as she cursed under her breath. The last thing she needed to do was get any sort of stain on this ridiculously overpriced silk she was sewing. She’d _only_ been sewing since she was a child, and yet she still wound up stabbing herself with a sewing needle multiple times a week.

Morgan looked up to steal a glance out of the shop window. It was faintly snowing, just a week before Christmas. She thought about how she would normally be meeting up with her friends at a pub tonight for some mulled wine, exchanging small gifts, and keeping warm by a fire; but that wouldn’t be happening because now she was over an entire ocean.

She had moved with her mother back to her hometown of London when her father passed away suddenly just a few months before. Morgan had been born and raised in the southern United States where her no-maj father was from. London was a whole lot different than Georgia; from the people to the accents, and most notably the weather. She found herself homesick quicker than she realized. 

Morgan got a job rather quickly at Madam Malkin’s Robes for all Occasions. She had applied to a seamstress position in Twilfit and Tatting’s, but when they saw how she utilized many “muggle” techniques, they promptly criticized her and she left in a huff. She didn’t like London; it was stuffy and crowded. She missed her mountains and fields and running creeks and streams everywhere. Half of the time Morgan felt like she couldn’t breathe here.

She was grateful that Madam Malkin let her work alone most of the time. She had proved herself quickly with the owner, especially when she assured the older woman she was undercharging for a lot of her services. Her customer base didn’t even complain when she hesitantly increased her prices. She was impressed with Morgan from the start; the quick witted American girl had charmed a lot of customers and provided excellent seamstress work.

Morgan went back to her robe, using her wand to heal her cut and clean the blood from the sewing needle. She had so many scars on her fingers from this that she hardly even noticed anymore. Silk was always so delicate to mend; and it was one that they just recently provided a service for since Twilfit and Tatting’s had royally pissed her off. Morgan was a fight fire with fire kind of woman, and some of their most loyal customers had begun going to Madam Malkin’s because Morgan had convinced her to go lower on her more delicate fabrics and higher on the common ones to make up the difference. 

Her father had been an excellent and well known textiles tradesman/salesman in the States. With his southern charm and long salt and pepper beard; Morgan had a fascination with fabric since an early age. Her mother had never been handy with sewing, even with the help of magical intervention, so Morgan learned everything she knew from her grandmother. She still had (and used) her grandmothers ancient manual treadle foot sewing machine. 

Morgan was lost in her thoughts when she heard the bell of the door and a redheaded man rushed to the counter. She was stuck behind a pile of fabric bolts, however, and he couldn’t see her.

“Hello? Hello!? Is anyone here?” He seemed panicked and Morgan got up gently, her head barely reaching above the pile she was behind. “Bit of an emergency…”

“Yes, sorry. Let me get out of this pile…” Morgan moved a few out of the way and finally got to the counter. “Can I help you?”

The man quirked an eyebrow. “You’re American.”

Morgan just smiled, because she had been told that so many times if she didn’t smile her automatic response was just going to come out as “ _fucking obviously_ ”.

“Yes, well. I’m afraid I am in a rush and I have embarrassingly ripped a very significant part of my robe. I’m going to a rather important business meeting in fifteen minutes, do you think you might be able to fix it?” He shrugged off his robe and pointed out the rip, balling it up onto the counter.

“My God, this is huge. How did you manage this?” Morgan felt the tear, crosswise on the grain and gritted her teeth. “I can fix this, but I have to do it manually. It’ll probably take me about thirty minutes.” Frowning at the man he sighed.

“Alright, can I use your floo to call the person I’m meeting?” Morgan nodded a pointed to the fireplace behind the counter and he quickly went over to it.

Morgan took the robes and grabbed her sewing kit. She browsed through her needles until settling on a rather large and wide one and then needed thread. “Accio burgundy thread. Accio black thread. Accio Maroon thread.”

“Is there really a difference between burgundy and maroon?” 

“There is. When you’ve stared at the colors since you were a kid you learn real quick how to tell the difference.”

“Merlin, I didn’t know sewing was so technical... so detailed.”

“It’s an important trade. Without it, everyone would be walking about naked.” Morgan was making a joke and the man smirked at her. “This seam is going be visible. I can hide the thread with a ladder stitch but I recommend some sort of embellishment to cover it. Perhaps a stripe of color around the robe to not make it look obvious it was mended?”

“Do you think it’ll help me impress investors?”

“If I make it velvet, yes.”

“Alright, deal.”

It only took Morgan about 23 minutes to finish it, a personal best for her, and she handed the man his robes back. “I see in the collar there’s already been some mending. If you bring it back I can clean it up a bit.” The man looked unsure and shrugged. 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Sixteen galleons.”

“Merlin’s beard, for a mend?”

“And the embellishment, and the specialty stitch, and the labor, and the rush delivery of services. Unless you want me to hold onto it for another seven minutes and knock a galleon off. We could hold a staring contest to see who blinks first.”

The man grumbled, but had a small grin on his face as he pulled coins out of his pants pocket and laid them on the table. He mumbled a dry thanks and walked out in a hurry. 

Rude, he didn’t even leave her a tip.


	2. Molly Weasley is angry

Morgan always arrived early to the shop because there always seemed to be a rush of customers in the morning. Madam Malkin was there in the early hours to measure and take orders, as well as another part time seamstress. At this point, Morgan was doing a lot of the work but was being compensated more than fairly for it. 

This morning was no different, as four people walked into the shop when they unlocked the door. Madam Malkin and Louisa took care of the customer’s while Morgan started separating finished orders and small mending to move them out of the way. All was going as usual until she head louder than normal voices coming from the lobby.

“I’d just like to know who was working here yesterday afternoon…” There was a plump woman speaking with Louisa and Louisa eyed Morgan. If she was able to shrink herself at that moment, she might have. Except she'd never really paid attention too much in charms and transfiguration.

“Yesterday afternoon Morgan was the only seamstress in the shop. I'll go in the back and see if I can find her.”

Morgan stepped forward, not wanting Louisa to have to take any bashing for something she might have caused, so she made her presence known. “Hi, I’m Morgan. Can I help you with something?"

“American, it makes more sense now.” The woman gave a small sigh and shook her head. “You charged my son sixteen galleons to fix his robes yesterday! Sixteen! I demand a refund, that is completely insane!” The woman wasn’t yelling, but her statements took Morgan off guard. Madam Malkin walked over to see what the commotion was and the woman looked relieved. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here Madam Malkin. This associate charged George sixteen galleons for a simple mend! I’d like a refund, please.”

“No,” The words came out of Morgan’s mouth before she even knew what she was saying. Both of the older women looked at her surprised. “No, he does not deserve a refund. He came in here, in a rush, with a near six inch… sorry, that’s right you use metrics… anyway, the tear in his robes was half as long as my wand. It was across the grain. I had to use a ladder stitch, and embellishment to cover the mark up, which he _agreed_ to. It wasn’t repairable by magic, I had to do all of the work by hand.”

“But you never told him what it would cost!”

“He never asked me what it would cost.”

The red headed woman looked slightly embarrassed now, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I guess I get a little bent out of shape when it comes to George… but I didn’t know that. I’m sorry, Morgan. He just made it sound like he was being taken advantage of. He’s been through a lot. I get protective, I'm sorry. Really.”

“Okay. Well, apology accepted I guess.” Morgan looked uneasy and turned to Madam Malkin. “I’m going back to finish my orders.”

When she was out of sight from the customers, Morgan cursed under her breath. What an absolute jackass. Going and running to his mom because she made him pay a well justified fee for the service she provided. He wasn’t even here and he was managing to piss her off. She tried to brush it off to the side as she focused on her work.

Lunch time came around and Morgan didn’t realize how hungry she was. She finally put her heaps of fabric down and told Louisa she was taking lunch. She wandered into the heart of Diagon Alley looking for somewhere to eat. She wound up with a sandwich and a scoop of ice cream as she explored streets she hadn’t walked down before. And when she rounded a corner, all of a sudden she saw a gigantic animated head of _George_ staring at her with a stupid grin.

Morgan needed to pinch herself if only to convince her own brain that she wasn’t hallucinating. She was sure that grief could manifest as madness sometimes. Perhaps her father’s recent death had finally gotten to her and now there was no turning back. But this was real; that stupid mans face was plastered over a sign that said “Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes”. Morgan knew she should turn around and go back to work, but she eyed the animatronic and glared at it. Stupid man child.

And because of a lack of any self control, Morgan waltzed right through the door, trashing the rest of her lunch before she did it.

The inside of the shop was like a zoo. Teenagers and kids everywhere, testing out products, which parents looked on positively horrified. Morgan had to admit that some of these products looked like a lot of fun to mess around with, and - was that a miniature puffskein!? It was _adorable_.

Morgan shook her head and tried to stay on task. It was so crowded, she couldn’t see much more than what was right in front of her. Eventually, she saw the red head if only because he towered over everyone else in the store. Morgan supposed that having a majority of children as his target customer age range was only working out to her benefit right now. 

The problem was that Morgan was about the same height as a teenager. She never really made it past 5’5, and she blamed it entirely on her parents shitty genes. She did her best to push through the crowd until she was a few feet away from George. Who was standing trying to sell something that looked possibly dangerous to a teenage boy.

Morgan stayed professional and waited until he was done with his charming, ridiculous sales tactic. When he turned around and saw Morgan standing a few feet away from him with her hands on her hips his eyes widened. “My, my. Are you stalking me?” He eyes lit up, and a huge grin spread across his _stupid_ face.

“Did you really go and tell your _mother_ that I overcharged you!?”

George looked confused and like he was about to ask her a question when she continued.

“Your mother came into my place of employment, specifically asked for me, and then chewed me out in front of a whole lobby full of customers. Never, in my entire sewing career, have I been told I did a bad job or a job that was not worthy of the amount of money I asked for. So when I turned the corner and saw your stupid face on the building outside, I knew I had to come here and return the favor.”

They were attracting an audience now and George looked a big flustered, but also a bit intrigued. He leaned on a pile of boxes next to him and threw on a charming smile. “She yelled at you in front of customers? That sounds like mum. Did she scrunch her nose up a bit like this…” He demonstrated what he meant, “That means she was royally cross.”

Morgan rubbed her temples and sighed. “Don’t come into my shop and ask me to perform a service and then berate me to your mother because you don’t understand what I do. It’s pretty clear by our surroundings that your life is all just one big joke.”

“I’ll tell you what, you can pick any item here and I’ll let you have it. Free of charge. We call it even.”

“You… dear lord, you are missing the point. I don’t want any of your crap, Weasley. I want an apology.”

George made a bit of a disappointing hiss and tapped his tongue against the top of his mouth. “See, I don’t really believe that I did anything wrong. I didn’t tattle on you, I told my mum my own opinion and _she_ took it upon herself to give you _her_ opinion on the situation.” 

Morgan just shook her head. “Forget I even came here.” She wasn’t about to stand here and waste the last of her lunch break arguing with the redheaded man child. George looked entirely too pleased with himself as she walked out of the store.


	3. cheeky

The flat that Morgan was living in was tiny, and she was currently sharing that space with her mother. The older British witch had been off of work since the passing of her husband, and Morgan couldn’t just leave her alone when she was still grieving. She let her mom have the bedroom, and she was currently sleeping on the couch which was heavily used. Her only little piece of heaven was the corner with her sewing machine. She kept making robes for her mom in bright colors or fun patterns to help cheer her up. But Morgan knew how she felt. She missed her dad so much.

Her mother, Rosalind, was currently in waiting for a job at the Ministry. She had briefly worked for MACUSA in the states before relocating to the south after getting married. So right now everything was on Morgan to pay the bills. Apparently since the Second Wizarding War (which they had missed by about two years) any type of wizarding government job required a thorough background check, even longer if they were foreign. 

Morgan brought dinner home, and they sat in silence while they ate. Morgan had always had more to say to her father. Her mom was usually more on the quiet side. Rosalind asked how her day had been.

“It was normal. Except this one pompous jerk…” Morgan proceeded to tell her mother the story of George and how his mom had come into the shop. It made her mom smile, and Morgan was glad she took it lightheartedly because Morgan was still pissed. 

Morgan missed the states, and all of the familiarity she had there. London wasn’t horrible, but it was quite an adjustment for her. They finished up dinner and Morgan went to relax on the couch. She ran her hand over the upholstery fabric and tried to imagine putting new padding and fabric on it to spruce it up, but the furniture came with the apartment and she wasn’t sure she was allowed to. As she was thinking of pattern and textures, she fell asleep.

Work was becoming more and more repetitive, but the shop was slowing down since Christmas break had passed. There had been an influx of Hogwarts students that needed robes mended while they were home for the holidays, but Madam Malkin had confirmed they were all back in school until Easter break. This gave Morgan a sigh of relief as she could focus on projects she enjoyed like embellishments, and gowns. She was thrilled when a young woman came in commissioning a wedding dress and bridesmaids dresses.

This was so common in the no-maj world, but with factories and industrialization, gowns were hardly handmade anymore. Her mother had warned her the Wizarding population was scarce since the second war and there were less of a population for these types of celebrations, but when the brunette walked through the door and asked her questions, Morgan was thrilled.

“I’m muggle born, so the idea of having a dress made specifically for me is rather old fashioned, I think.” The woman admitted with a slight frown on her face. 

“I understand,” Morgan began pulling fabric swatches from below the counter, “I was raised in America with a no-maj father. The weddings that southern American women have… it’s mind blowing.” The brunette laughed and held her hand out to shake. “I’m Morgan.”

“Hermione Granger.” She sighed, adjusting her bag. “My mother-in-law is going to insist we come back to shop for _the first time_. I love her dearly, but I was sort of hoping that we could have something in place before then. Just between us.”

Morgan understood completely and they sat for almost an hour to sketch out a dress and look at lace and details. Hermione was very plain and traditional, and Morgan had a feeling that when the lot of them came in to try on dresses, it would be chaos. 

“Okay, let me see…” Morgan looked at her sketch and then raised her wand. A simple A-line dress in an off white color appeared in the air, and Hermione gasped.

“Oh, Morgan! That’s lovely!” Morgan added a little lace detail to the neckline and Hermione looked like she might cry. “It’s gorgeous. Really. It’s like you could read my mind… you didn’t did you?” Morgan wasn’t sure if she was serious until she laughed and Morgan gave an easy smile.

“I’m glad you like it. If you’re set, I can start on it as soon as possible. Even if we have to go back and forth with your mother-in-law.” They settled on a few details and Hermione left.

The afternoon dragged on and on, but Morgan was happy to bring out a catalog of fabrics to look for the wedding dresses. She was lost in a world of chiffon and tulle when the bell rang. Her eyes looked up to meet George Weasley’s.

Morgan gave a very irritated huff as she got up and walked to the counter. “Good afternoon, can I help you, sir?”

“Woooweeee, formal today, aren’t we?” George leaned on his elbows on the counter, head sitting in his hands now. “Thought I might take you up on that offer to fix the neckline on my business robe.” He waved his wand and the robe appeared in front of her. 

“Good lord,” Morgan pushed some of the fabric away. “What in the world did you spill on this? It smells awful.” She held her nose and George laughed.

“Yeah, I was working on a new potion and one of the ingredients was skunk essence. Pungent. Can you get it out, you think?”

Morgan looked like she wanted to punch him clear between the eyes and she kept her hand over her mouth and nose. “No. Burn it and buy another.” George gave a very dramatic frown and with a flick of his wand the robe was gone.

“I’ve had that thing for so long…” He sighed. “Well then, I suppose you’re going to have to measure me. I’d like _two_ custom business robes please.” He had some pep in his step as he hopped up on tailor’s square. George also held up his hand to show her his two fingers.

“Would you like me to price them out before we get started?” Morgan quipped, grabbing her tape measure, a piece of parchment, and her wand. George just grinned at her and watched her intently as she walked towards him. 

“No, no. Give me the works. I’m considering expanding my shop. Opening one in Hogsmeade. Those bloody Hogwarts students can’t get enough of my products.” He stood taller, quite proudly and Morgan couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t want to, but it was really hard to not be… well, lighter, in George’s presence. 

Morgan didn’t say anything as George rambled on and on through the measuring. Best sellers, flops, an entire case of invisible ink that quite _literally_ disappeared. She found herself highly amused as she finally stood face to face with the ginger, her measuring tape going around his neck. “Easy, girl. Please don’t choke me too hard.” He winked and Morgan’s cheeks turned red, as she quickly got the measurement and turned to her parchment.

“Your neck is small considering it’s holding up your big head.” She teased, and George beamed at her as she put everything back. She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “What sort of fabric do you want? Color?”

“Hm,” He wondered. “Perhaps dark red. And whatever is warm, but professional.”

“Damn, that eliminates the see through mesh and chiffon I was thinking.” Morgan rolled her eyes and went back to the counter.

“You know you’re actually pretty funny.” George offered, moving his arm in a circle to work out the kinks since he was sure she made him hold his arms over his head longer than he actually needed to. She had a very satisfied smile on her face when she was measuring his arms, and had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t because of his impressive muscles.

“Thanks?” Morgan wasn’t sure that was a compliment and she wrote out a receipt for him, holding her hand out. “You need to leave a deposit.”

“Maybe I’m not done shopping yet.” His eyes narrowed and she slumped, putting her quill back down. “My brother and his wife just had a baby. A little girl. Could you possibly make her something so adorable that they will never want to take her out of it and I can win favorite uncle of the year? Pretty please?” He gave a small pout and she sighed.

“Fine. What do you want? Dress? Romper? Ruffled butt?”

George laughed. “I give you full creative control. My sister-in-law… she’s very girly. Maybe just make it pink if you can?” Morgan nodded and George handed her a few galleon’s as a deposit. When he finally left the store (twenty minutes later after browsing at every single scrap of fabric), Morgan gave a relieved sigh. But as the afternoon dragged on, Morgan found herself wishing that maybe George had stayed a little longer.


	4. your garments are ready

_Mr. Weasley,_

_The two business robes and infant outfit that you ordered are completed and ready for you to pick up at your convenience. Our shop hours are 8am to 4:30pm. Thank you for your business._

_Morgan Davenport  
Seamstress, Madam Malkin’s Robes_

Morgan Davenport. George looked at the letter delivered by his owl and shook his head. The fiesty little blonde American had kept him on his toes every time he saw her. It was clear his presence annoyed her, but that almost made it that much more fun. He had never been so excited to go and pick up robes in his life.

He practically skipped down Diagon Alley to Madam Malkin’s, whistling as he held the door for an elderly couple exiting. He waited patiently until he was called to the counter, his disappointment obvious on his face when it was Madam Malkin herself, and not Morgan.

“Ah, Mr. Weasley.” She greeted and he smiled.

“Always a pleasure, Madam. Is Ms. Davenport around by any chance?” His head peered to the little table he had seen her sitting at, sewing. It was empty. Madam Malkin smirked as she handed three carefully wrapped packages to him and he paid her. “Wanted to personally thank her for making the robes so quickly.”

“She’s on lunch right now, I’m afraid. You just missed her.” George just nodded slowly and thanked her for the items. He couldn’t wait around for her, it would be obvious he was doing it just to see her. But he also had no reason to leave the items and come back for them later. Defeated, he left the shop and headed back to his own, but maybe at an agonizingly slow pace.

George always felt like he became ten times smaller when Fred died. It was hard to explain how so much of his life revolved around his twin, because it was hard to find someone who understood. They had always been known as the Weasley twins, not Fred and George. And now that was gone and he was just George Weasley. Brother of the dead Weasley, who lost his life in sacrifice for the greater good. 

It took a long time for George to accept his death. And he still hadn’t accepted the guilt he felt for that death. Any time George was back at the burrow, it all came rushing back to him like a hard punch in the gut. Molly pestered him constantly to come home and visit. His siblings were all doing amazing; getting married and having babies and chasing dragons in Romania. George was isolating himself in his joke shop, because it was the one place he felt like he could still feel Freddie without a wave of nausea coming over him. 

But even George couldn’t avoid his own father’s birthday. So he tried his best to sneak in through the back door before the chaos of his presence was known. Too late, he was eye to eye with Ginny, who practically jumped on him. “George is here!” She shouted and he groaned. 

“You are now my least favorite sister.” 

“You set the bar incredibly low for best sister, so I’ll take that as an honor.” Ginny smiled as the rest of the clan came over to hug and kiss him and pester him.

“You’re thirty minutes late. We already started dinner.” Leave it to Percy to point out the time and he shuffled around, shrugging his coat off before sitting down.

“Well Merlin, can’t a man pick up his purchases in peace. I had to go to Madam Malkin’s before they closed, I had new business robes made. Looking to expand the shop to Hogsmeade.” George looked to Ron and gave a wink. Hermione eyed them closely and Ron (horribly) pretended like he had no idea what that meant. Ron had approached George asking to help manage the shop. His days as an Auror was numbered, he just didn’t have the energy to do it and he missed his family. George wouldn’t sell him out too much before Ron actually fessed up to Hermione. George had a feeling it wasn’t something that was going to happen before their wedding, though.

“Madam Malkin’s? You went in there?” Molly eyed George suspiciously. She had never confessed to going in there and bothering Morgan. 

“Where else am I going to buy my robes, mum?”

“Well, I just thought after you were so upset about being charged…”

“It was all a misunderstanding, no big deal.” George squinted his eyes at his mother, who was putting spoonfuls of something mushy on everyone’s plates. “Why?” He gasped, slamming his fork down on the table. “You went an harassed that poor lady, didn’t you!” 

“You seemed upset!” Molly defended herself and George looked appalled. 

“Okay, I’m gathering Molly went to Madam Malkin’s and yelled at someone because George had a tantrum…” Ron was trying to piece the clues together. Harry joined in to fill in any gaps as they argued.

“Maybe I have come to appreciate the art of mending robes, mum. I do believe you owe poor Morgan an apology. Considering she came into the shop and gave me the same courtesy you showed her.”

Molly was at a loss for words, her cheeks red. “It was a misunderstanding…”

“She yelled at me in front of the pygmy puffs, mother!” George said dramatically.

“ _Not the pygmy puffs!_ ” Ginny chimed in and George pointed his fork towards her.

“Thank you!”

They finished dinner and sang happy birthday to Arthur. As he was opening presents, Molly stood up. “I’ve decided to invite Morgan from Madam Malkin’s to my our Sunday lunch next week, I think it’s a proper apology. I do feel very bad.”

George’s eyebrows raised. He didn’t expect his mom to go to such lengths in order to apologize to Morgan. And the idea of her being near his family… finding out about Fred and everything that happened… why did he care?

_Why did he care?_

George didn’t get an opportunity to go see Morgan the next day, as he was stuck at Gringott’s all day arguing over how to properly get Fred’s name off of the business accounts and other things. But Molly had more than enough time to go to Madam Malkin’s and invite Morgan to her birthday. Morgan had been shocked, properly shocked, at the invitation. Which, of course, led her to marching to Weasley’s shop on her lunch break.

The tall redhead was no where in sight, and she left to go back to work. But George had spotted her on his way back from Gringott’s and “accidentally” bumped into her as they were walking through a crowd. “Oh my, excuse me. New robes, I’m trying to get used to how heavy they-“ George perked up as he locked eyes with Morgan. “Well, fancy seeing you here.”

“Why is your mom inviting me to her house for lunch on Sunday?”

Straight to the point, and his eyes narrowed at her in confusion. “Wait, mum is asking you to lunch? Did she say why?”

“She wants to clear the air, make sure there’s no hard feelings. She was also asking if I was single, graduated from Ilvermorny, and if I know how to cook. This better not be some sort of creepy, mom way of setting me up with you.” 

“Oh, it most definitely is.” George gave a serious nod. “The more we bicker, really, the harder she will try. So we should just probably snog as soon as we get there to throw her off.”

Morgan didn’t even give that a response as she rolled her eyes and started to walk off.

“Wait, what did you tell her?” George called out.

“I said yes, of course I’ll come for lunch.” Morgan called back, glancing over her shoulder. “I want as many embarrassing stories about you as humanly possible.” George suddenly was nervous again, at the thought of Morgan Davenport in his family home. Again, there was no reason. It was just lunch.

Just lunch with his whole family, most likely. He didn’t even have to be there if he didn’t want to. But that was the problem. He wanted to be there.

Morgan wasn’t exactly nervous as Sunday came around, but she had some sort of fluttering in her stomach. She had been horribly lonely since moving to the UK and the prospect of having lunch with Molly Weasley made her excited. Sure, the woman was old enough to be her mother but it was someone other than her family and co-workers to socialize with. 

She’d spent the night before making one of her favorite dishes; Chinese dumplings. She’d learned from her friend Mary during her days at Ilvermorny, and it reminded her to send her a letter when she got home. 

Morgan had her hair up, a bright green jumpsuit on that she had, of course, sewed herself with a white cardigan over it. When she used the floo to land at the Weasley’s, she hadn’t expected to pop up in the main room, with about twelve people staring right at her.

“Uh, hi? I’m Morgan?” She questioned if she was in the right place, but judging by the amount of redheads bouncing around she figured she was. “Molly invited me to lunch.”

“Well, right on, come in!” An older gentleman held out his hand, introducing himself as Arthur. George looked a lot like his father, she could easily see the resemblance.

“Oh, Morgan! So glad you could make it! Oh what’s this? You didn’t need to bring anything!” She peeked into the container and raised her eyebrows up. “I’ve never seen anything like this, did you make these? Come, come. Let me introduce you to everyone.”

“Yes, they’re Chinese dumplings. My best friends mom taught me…” Morgan looked around, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I didn’t realize there were going to be so many people here, I would’ve made more.”

“Oh don’t worry dear, we have lunch like this every Sunday it’s actually going to get a little more hectic before we eat. But there’s plenty of food.” Molly cleared her throat and put her hands on Morgan’s shoulders. “This is Morgan, she works at Madam Malkin’s.” She was greeted with a ton of heys and how are you’s as she was prompted to sit down. 

There were an awful lot of Weasley children. Which, was apparently very well known in this part of the Wizarding world. A popping noise came from outside and another redhead entered, looking a little down. He introduced himself as Ron and Morgan felt a little bad for him, he looked sad.

Ginny was the only Weasley daughter, and she took to Morgan right away. She was dating the infamous Harry Potter, who was a lot quieter than Morgan expected. He spoke mostly to Ron and when the food began getting passed around, George finally made his grand entrance. He walked by Ron, swiping a roll out of his hand and shoving it in his mouth. Morgan was sandwiched between Bill and Percy, to which Molly insisted Bill move to sit with his wife and infant daughter, so George took the now empty seat.

“Percy and I are the only single ones, see how she totally organized all this from the beginning?” George whispered in her ear and Morgan tensed at him being so close to her. 

“Good to know I’ve got options, then.” She countered, a laugh coming from George.

“You don’t want Percy. He’s a goody two shoes. You might be a little uptight as well, but I can tell when someone enjoys breaking the rules as much as I do.”

“I am not uptight…” She gave him a glare and George called to Bill, ignoring her last comment.

“Oy, Bill. Heres a present for my favorite little niece.” And he tossed a carefully wrapped package towards his brother who caught it and him and his wife opened it. Morgan recognized it immediately. She tried to not focus on it, pushing food around on her plate.

“Oh my, George zis is beeeeeautiful!” Fleur gushed, taking the delicate romper out of the package holding it up to show the table the pale pink, ruffled bottom outfit. “Where did you find zis!?”

“Morgan made it!” He gave a dashing smile and Morgan’s cheeks went so red she looked like a cherry. The family started gushing about how pretty the outfit was and Molly chimed in saying that they should go to Morgan for the wedding dresses. Morgan still wasn’t sure who was married, getting married, or what was happening, but she did know that she wanted to smack George. But she settled for giving him a jab with her elbow which he met with a shit eating grin.

“So you’re almost like a fashion designer then?” Ron asked and Morgan laughed, shaking her head.

“Not really. I’ve just been making clothes since I was young. I follow patterns, mostly. I’ve never really been too good at sewing garments for others without it. Some people can come up with their own designs.” Morgan shrugged, it was hard to explain.

“Did you make your outfit?” Ginny asked. “I love the color and the buttons.”

“Yeah, I did. The cardigan too. Thanks.”

The conversation turned again and Morgan glanced at her watch after everyone had finished eating. “I hate to duck out, but I do have some things to finish up before tomorrow. Thank you for inviting me, Molly. It was a pleasure to meet you all!” She decided against the floo, after saying her goodbyes she wrapped her coat around herself and went outside to apparate home.

“Hey, wait!” George called, closing the door behind him. Morgan just raised her eyebrows as he jogged up to her. “I uh, I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to grab dinner with me tomorrow night?” Morgan’s face must have been in shock, because he immediately backtracked. “Right, never mind. Silly to ask.”

“Pick me up at the shop at 5.” Morgan’s face softened a bit and George grinned.


	5. is this a date?

Morgan didn’t sleep at all Sunday night. She had only thought about George asking her to dinner, and her actually saying yes. Why had she said yes? Did she feel bad? Or was it that rush she got every time she argued with him or saw him smirk. They’d only met a handful of times, how was it that he had gotten a response like that out of her?

Work dragged on, and Morgan felt herself looking up every time the door chimed to see if maybe it was George. But why would he come early? Maybe she was hoping he was excited, and nervous for this dinner too. 

She hadn’t dressed up, he just said dinner. Morgan didn’t think that George Weasley frequented formal restaurants. She was in jeans and a sweater, nothing out of the ordinary for her. At 4:30 sharp, she waved her wand to dim the lights and turned the sign to show the shop was closed. She cashed out the register, organized the order forms and kept her focus, but her eyes involuntarily gazed to the door every few minutes.

At 4:59, she opened the door to the shop, locking it up behind her as she cold air hit her. George was nowhere in sight. This was awkward. She fumbled, the keys dropping as she bent over to grab them.

“Now, that is a beautiful sight.” George’s voice was silky behind her and she sighed. Of course that was when he was going to show up. It’s like he had impeccable timing. Morgan turned around to a grinning George. He looked as casually dressed as Morgan was, his hair a little disheveled and his cheeks red from the cold. She doubted he ever blushed.

“Is this a date?” Morgan just came right out and said it, George’s eyebrows raised at the sudden question.

“Do you want it to be a date?”

“Was it your intention for it to be a date?”

“You ask a lot of questions for a first date.” George looked positively pleased with himself and Morgan went to say something else but realized what his last statement was.

“I’m not sleeping with you.” She was utterly blunt and George both found it highly annoying, but a quirky turn on. George didn’t say anything but nodded, offering his arm to Morgan who gave him a suspicious look before linking her arms with his. They walked a few streets, silence the only thing between them. Diagon Alley was nice in the evening, bustling for the dinner rush and George led her down a narrow alley.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I figured we could go for something casual; like dinner and drinks?” He’d only been on a few dates in the last few years, always fizzling out after a few. Most of them had been set ups by Molly or his brothers. At least he could admit he was lonely. 

“I don’t think you’d be able to get me in anywhere fancy in denim jeans and a sweater with hearts all over it.” George laughed and opened the door to a tiny pub, the bartender greeting George like an old friend. “Come here a lot?” Morgan asked, a little nosy.

“I had a rough last couple of years. Spent more time at the pub drinking until I was basically obliviated than I care to admit.” George held his hands out to grab Morgan’s coat, which surprised her and she shrugged it off. “Gus let me sleep it off in his flat too many times simply so that I didn’t make an absolute moron of myself.” 

“Lady troubles?”

“I wish it had been.” There was a small silence as her and George took a seat in a booth and looked awkwardly at each other. “So, how was work today?”

“Dreadfully boring.” Morgan admitted, placing her hands on the table. “You?”

“Same. Once all the kids go back to school we sort of go into a dead spell for a while. Gives me time to think, though. Come up with new stuff.”

Morgan was confused, but then the thought hit her. “Wait, you invented all of the items in your shop?” She was honestly impressed. When she had first gone in there she wasn’t, because anyone could sell product. But to know he actually was the brains behind them, well, that was a lot more impressive.

“Yeah,” George admitted, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “My brother Fred and I came up with most of the items. Some we just keep in stock because they sell well, but aren’t ours.”

“Oh, you have another brother? He wasn’t there on Sunday.”

“Two other brothers, actually. Charlie, he’s older… he’s in Romania working with dragons. Very smart, but very weird. Keeps to himself a lot. And yeah, Fred.” George sort of went into another place, wondering if he should tell her about Fred. If he didn’t, and this progressed, someone was bound to tell her. Best she heard it from him. “Fred died during the battle of Hogwarts.” He said it simply and Morgan winced a bit.

“I’m so sorry, George.” Morgan said it softly. “I don’t have any siblings, I can’t imagine how hard that is. My dad… he passed away suddenly a few months ago. It’s why my mom and I moved here.”

George looked up at her and smiled weakly. “I’m sorry for your loss, Morgan.” He said it sincerely and Morgan knew he meant it. There was another awkward silence and Morgan laughed. Like, a ridiculous laugh and George couldn’t help but laugh as well. “I’m not usually one for dead family humor but…”

She wiped the tears from her eyes and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I just…” She sighed, a breathy laugh coming from her. “I’m so going to regret telling you this. The last time I went on a date I wound up super drunk and spent the next 48 hours in someone’s bed. I was just asking myself if that’s how self destructive I was feeling today.”

George liked that honesty from her and he sat up straighter. “I don’t mean to brag or anything, but two months after Fred died I bought a motor boat. A muggle boat.” Morgan snorted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand.

“You have no idea what a motor boat does!?”

“None. It’s been sitting in storage for nearly three years. Talk about impulsive grieving decisions.”

They both laughed as someone came over to take their drinks order. “I’ll take the darkest beer you have, please.” George looked impressed and Morgan smiled. George ordered the same and when the waitress came back, Morgan held her glass up to cheers. “To self destructive, impulsive decisions thanks to our dead family members.”

“Here, here!” 

Morgan opened her eyes and had a horrible headache. When she didn’t feel that familiar ache in her lower back, she realized she wasn’t on the couch in her flat. Morgan sat up, trying to take in her surroundings. George Weasley was in bed next to her. This was George’s place. “Fuck, Morgan… you stupid, stupid girl.” She glanced under the covers to see she was fully dressed and then pulled the covers down over George to see the same.

“You’re not stupid,” George mumbled, pulling the blanket over himself again. “Go back to sleep, you’re giving me a bigger headache than I already have.” Morgan’s head was pounding and she thought of apparating home. Her mom would wake up, question her for about an hour, and she couldn’t deal with that right now. Morgan reluctantly slid herself back down the bed, resting her head on the pillow. She looked at George’s face as her eyes adjusted to the light. His hair was over his eyes, his face half shoved in a pillow. He looked… cute. 

Morgan scrunched her face up and rubbed her hands over her face. What was she doing? George reached out and grabbed one of her hands, lacing his fingers with hers. “Relax, Morgan. Nothing happened. Go back to sleep.” He opened his eyes and gave her a smile. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

George watched the blonde in his bed for a minute at daybreak. It had been a while since a woman was in his bed. And here was a beautiful one, fully clothed, snoring and drooling into his pillow. It was almost poetic. He’d never let a woman sleepover, let alone continue sleeping after he had woken up. He always used opening the shop as an excuse, but he glanced at the clock that only said 7am and sighed. He knew she would have to be at work in an hour, so he hesitantly made his way over to the side of the bed she was on.

“Morgan…” He sang it softly in a teasing tone. “I know you’re probably having wonderful naughty dreams about that handsome devil, George Weasley… but it’s Tuesday and you most likely have work in an hour. Unless you don’t, I have’t gotten your schedule memorized yet.” He questioned himself about that one, he was usually a lot more observant when it came to these things, but Morgan groaned, pulling the blanket over her head. “I can write to Madam Malkin and tell her you’re not feeling well.” He offered.

Morgan just peeked her head out of the blanket and nodded quickly. George’s eyebrows shot up, a smile spreading on his face. “Are you playing hooky, Ms. Davenport? I’m utterly speechless. But well, I suppose this calls for a fake sick day for me too.” George quickly wrote a note to Madam Malkin and his manager, sending his pretty barn owl out to deliver the messages. 

“Come back to bed,” Morgan peered out of the blanket again, catching George’s attention.

“Me?” He pretended to look around and try and find the imaginary person Morgan was clearly speaking to behind him.

“It’s cold,” She gave a whiny pout, “You must be forgetting the part of last night where I told you I grew up in Georgia.”

“I still love that it’s named _George_ -ah,” He beamed proudly, sliding himself back under the covers. Morgan rolled her eyes, she should’ve known that comment was coming. “You’re going to have to start dressing warmer.”

“I’ll need to make myself a whole new wardrobe.”

“There is a second option, you’re forgetting. You could go around sans clothes. Yes,” He pretended like he had thought about it seriously for a while. “Definitely prefer that option.”

Morgan smiled, “I might also be using you, Mr. Weasley.” This got George’s attention and he slid closer to Morgan, who was still hiding half of her face under the blanket. “I haven’t slept on a bed, especially one this comfortable since we moved. I’m camped on a couch in the flat I share with my mom.”

George gave her a sympathetic look and reached over to push some hair from her eyes. “Then go back to sleep. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

She shared a flat with her mother. She slept on a couch, no doubt, to let her mom have the bedroom. If she could afford to move out on her own, would she? Surely they’d move to a flat with two bedrooms if they could afford it. George had questions, so many of them. But it was near 10am now and Morgan was still dead asleep in his bed. He grabbed another piece of parchment and scrawled a note onto it, feeling bad he sent his owl away once again when she just came back.

Eventually Morgan got up, disheveled, but well rested. She made her way to the living room/kitchen area and her eyes still looked sleepy, but she looked peaceful. “I think I would sell a kidney for your bed.” 

“Now there’s a market I should get into.” George thought about it and nodded to the counter. “Coffee? Tea? I don’t usually do this sort of thing so I’m not sure of the protocol, here.”

“Oh, you don’t usually let women sleep in your bed fully clothed because they’re cold and tired of sleeping on old couches with pointy springs?” Morgan smirked and helped herself to a cup of coffee, warming it with her wand. “Don’t tell me you usually kick them out when you’re done?”

“Maybe when I’m getting up for work…”

“Scandalous, Weasley.”

“I know it’s only been one date,” George slid a piece of parchment across the counter, Morgan grabbing it and reading it. “That’s my floo in case you want to sleep, and _only_ sleep in my bed. I am saving myself for marriage.” He met Morgan’s eyes with a look that she interpreted as a warning. “But in case my floo is closed, here is a key. And don’t argue with me on this. I hardly sleep unless I’ve been drinking.”

“Thank you,” Morgan looked up at him, sincerity in her eyes. “Bad dreams?”

George looked distant again. “Something like that, yeah.”


	6. oh, sod off Percy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * mentions of grief *

Morgan was not expecting George to be waiting for her after work on Friday night. He had come in one afternoon during the week and brought her a cookie, with the excuse “it made him think of you”. It was covered in sprinkles and tasted heavenly. But when she closed the shop on Friday, George was waiting for her with a smile on his face. 

“I see you’ve got my schedule memorized.” 

“Luckily, Madam Malkin is easily bribed. Kidding, I’ve been getting my robes here since I was eleven. _Of course_ I know their hours.” George lied, hands in his pockets as he walked towards Morgan. “I was wondering if I could steal you for the evening. I was going to go out with Ron and Harry… but the plans fell through.”

George looked a little sad as he mentioned it but Morgan shrugged. “I’m not doing anything. I was going to go home and drink wine and watch soap operas.” He eyed her and nodded. 

“That’s right, you’re half muggle. You can introduce me to all that cool electricity stuff you know how to use.” 

“I’m trying to decide if I want you to actually stick your tongue in an electrical outlet or not…” Morgan teased and George gave her a look she was slowly coming to realized was reserved for her. Like he knew she was teasing, but he secretly loved it. “I got another invitation for lunch at your parents on Sunday, by the way. I am feeling very honored.”

“You should.” George admitted as they walked away from the shop. “I suspect mum is trying to butter you up for making dresses for the wedding.”

“Oh, that’s right. Ron, right? He seems so young.”

“Yeah but I’m surprised Ginny and Harry haven’t gone and gotten hitched behind everyone’s backs yet.” George told her about Ginny and Harry’s back and forth during the second Wizarding war. How he had been sneaking in the kitchen when they shared a kiss before Fleur and Bill’s wedding. It amused Morgan, and she realized she had no idea where they were going.

“Were we going anywhere specific?” Morgan looked around, unfamiliar with this part of Diagon Alley.

“Honestly, no. We just started talking and here we are.” But this brought an idea into his head. “Have you ever been to Hogsmeade? Honeydukes?” Morgan shook her head and George grabbed her hand, apparating them instantly.

Inside was like every child’s dream, and Morgan got lost looking at a lot of the sugary confections. “Oh my god! Fizzing Whizbees!” She grabbed a box and cradled it to her. “I used to love these as a kid. I could only get them when we came here to visit my grandparents.”

“Really? Out of everything here you’re going to go with Fizzing Whizbees!?” George laughed, leaning against a shelf. “You’re precious, really.” George asked for pumpkin cake and both of them ate their goodies as they walked in Hogsmeade, Morgan floating up a few inches every few minutes.

“Look, I’m almost as tall as you!” She wasn’t even close and George kept putting his hand on her head, pushing her back on the ground with a shake of his head. “I’m so glad I’m an adult now and can eat basically just sugar for dinner. If only ten-year-old Morgan could see me now.”

“Speaking of, what sort of date would I be if I didn’t at least provide you sustenance?” 

“Oh, so this is another date?”

“What factors do you use to consider it a date?”

“Well, usually I eat and drink. I bat my eyelashes. Get super wasted and end up in his bed.”

“I’m so looking forward to this date we are most definitely _currently_ on.” George teased and led her into a pub. Again, he was greeted by the bartender who was an older man with a long gray beard. 

“I’m starting to feel like you’re a celebrity or something.”

“Nah,” George waved his hand as he tried to brush it off. “When we were in school, Fred and I ruled this town. We had a bit of a reputation. Believe me, if we went into some of the other shops, most of the shopkeepers would scream in horror and kick me out.”

They went back into conversations about their school years. They ate and drank and hadn’t even realized how much time passed. The bartender, who introduced himself as Aberforth told Morgan a ton of embarrassing stories of George’s school days. She realized as they went on how big of a part Fred played in George’s life. It seemed they had never been apart. George insisted on paying when they had finally finished up. This annoyed Morgan and she left Aberforth a very generous tip.

He didn’t ask before appareling them back to his flat. They both had a lot to drink, but not as bad as the last time and Morgan pursed her lips together, tapping her hand on her thigh. “I think I should probably go. I’m not sure me being here is a great idea. I know how you’re saving yourself until marriage and everything.” 

George smiled, slowly taking his jacket off. He was wearing a wool vest in a dark navy color, and his shirt underneath was tan. Definitely cotton. God, she was such a slut for fabrics on a good looking man and she gave a sigh and pouted. She brought herself back to reality and shook herself out of it, George was totally aware of the way she had been eying him. He walked towards her, unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt and she practically hummed disappointment. “In that case, goodnight Morgan. Thank you for tonight.” 

He towered over her and she pursed her lips together again. He smelled like beer and cinnamon and citrus and she thought for a second that he might lean down and kiss her. George intended to, but Morgan clapped her hands together. “Right. Goodnight George. I had a great time.” She walked out the door, leaving George probably more disappointed than she realized.

Morgan was looking forward to Sunday. Partly because she got to socialize again, but mostly because she was going to see George. She kept thinking about Friday and how she ran off as he was definitely trying to lean in and kiss her and she also felt incredibly stupid. One night stands seemed to be her thing, and she was scared that once it got to that point, she’d freeze up and run away screaming. 

She wasn’t the best cook in the world, but she managed to make a cake to bring with her to the Weasley’s house. It was lemon and blueberry, one of her favorites and she was very proud of her creation. Rosalind questioned her daughter about her recent whereabouts and sudden interest in cooking, Morgan answered honestly. She told her briefly about George and his family. Her mom seemed happy for her. 

She used the floo again, coming through the Weasley’s fire place. There were less people than last time; Ginny, Harry, and Ron were missing. Molly gave her grief about bringing food again, and Morgan tried to convince her it was because she hadn’t eaten it in so long she wanted it and didn’t want to eat the whole thing herself. Eventually Harry showed up with Ginny and a toddler with blue hair. An older woman was then coming through the fireplace as well. 

They were introduced as Andromeda Tonks, and her grandson, Teddy Lupin. He was absolutely adorable as he tore through the Weasley’s home. George was missing, but Morgan was not brave enough to ask where he was. 

They sat down to eat and again, Molly placed her next to Percy. They engaged in small talk here and there, eventually they hit it off talking about school subjects. He was fascinated to find learn that Alchemy was combined with Potions as a class at Ilvermorny and kept her talking about it until the door opened and George came walking in.

“Wow, we get to see you two weeks in a row?” Arthur hummed in amusement as George shrugged his jacket off. Morgan tried to not look at him as Percy and her continued with their conversation. 

“George usually doesn’t come to lunch,” Percy explained in a hushed tone. “He’s been, well, distant since…” He went quiet and Morgan nodded to show she knew what he was talking about.

“Billy boy,” George was now standing behind her, looking at his brother. “Don’t you want to sit with your wife and adorable, drooling daughter?” He said it in a mocking tone and Bill got up casually, leaning down to Morgan.

“I think he likes you,” he said it loud enough to George could hear it and George gave him a small shove. Bill laughed and threw his napkin at him. But George didn’t acknowledge Morgan except for a nod and she went back to talking with Percy.

“I’d really love to discuss alchemy with you more. I never had time to really delve into it once I started working at the Ministry. Maybe we could meet for coffee or-“

“Oh sod off, Percy. She’s not interested.” George interrupted and Morgan gave him a look.

“How would you know that I’m not interested in talking about alchemy?”

“Just talking? He’s asking you to get coffee.” George gave her that look. That knowing look. It made her cheeks flush and he knew it and he grinned. 

Morgan swallowed, turning to Percy. “I would love to get coffee and talk about alchemy. However, if there are other intentions, I have to tell you I’m not really looking for-“ How did she tell the brother of the man she was secretly (apparently) dating that one night stands were more her thing than dating?

“I completely understand. And honest,” Percy looked right at George. “It’s just about academic interests. I started seeing a woman a few weeks ago. Her name is Audrey and she’s lovely.”

“Look at that, George, you’re the only one still wallowing in loneliness.” Ginny gave her brother a look and Morgan could tell there were a lot more implications in it than was on the surface. The room went silent and Morgan wished she could’ve shrunk herself. 

She could tell the words stung George, because he face fell flat and he pulled his napkin off his lap and threw it on the table. “You know what? Fuck off Ginny. This is why I never come to fucking lunch.” He got up and made his way towards the door.

“No don’t leave! George, please come back!” It was Molly who was begging, following George out the door and Ginny scoffed. Arthur looked at Ginny like he was ready to scold her.

“What! He needs to hear it! It’s been three years and he won’t get help, he won’t even talk to any of us about it! It’s not healthy!"

Andromeda, Harry, and Morgan all looked equally uncomfortable as outsiders, as Teddy and Victoire giggled and gurgled. The meal finished quickly, and Morgan was glad to be out of there faster than last time. The comment from Ginny had changed the entire dynamic. Morgan was just going to go home, but she thought of George and apparated outside of his flat. She knocked, but he didn’t answer. Rummaging through her bag, she found the key he gave her and gently unlocked the door.

“George?” She called out, but was met with silence. The flat was empty, and she wondered where he had gone. Wherever he was, he was bound to come back eventually, so Morgan made herself comfortable, laying down on George’s unmade bed and quickly fell asleep.


	7. cuddly and co-dependent

Morgan was starting to realize she was very sleep deprived as she woke up in George’s bed. It was empty, and when she looked at the clock it said 6:02pm. It had been 4 hours since lunch ended and he still hadn’t shown up. Or she thought he hadn’t. 

When she stumbled out of the bedroom, she was greeted by George, looking terribly sad on his couch, with a bottle of something in his hands. “Hey,” She said softly, wrapping her sweater tighter around her as George looked up to her with some sort of desperate look on his face. It killed her, because she knew the pain he was feeling. She reached for the bottle, which George hesitantly let her take. “You know you left me to the dogs — Percy wouldn’t leave me alone after you left.”

George scoffed, shaking his head. “Did you ask him about _Audrey_?”

Morgan laughed and gently sat down next to him, putting the bottle on the side table. “No, I had to explain to everyone what Quadpot is.” George looked at her funny, clearly he didn’t know either. “American version of Quidditch, sort of.”

“Ah,” He sat up a little straighter, turning towards her. “You know I was a beater in my Hogwarts days. A bloody good one at that.” 

“Is that the one that whacks the angry ball with a bat?” Morgan wasn’t too familiar with Quidditch, but the name was pretty descriptive enough.

“Mmm,” George nodded, inching his body closer to Morgan’s in which she raised her eyebrows. 

“Are you trying to seduce me with Quidditch?”

“Is it working?”

“Not at all.” She laughed and George laughed. He leaned his head on the back of the couch, giving her a charming smile. A genuine smile that Morgan was happy to see.  
“You’re drunk.”

“I am.” His one hand reached out to rest on Morgan’s leg and he smiled. “And I’m feeling quite impulsive.”

“You already have a boat,” Morgan reminded him. 

“I don’t want another boat.”

“What do you want, then?”

“You.” He leaned in and Morgan reached up to lightly grab his chin. 

“I am not letting you kiss me for the first time completely drunk stinking like whiskey, Weasley.” He gave a defeated sigh, resting his head on the back of the couch again. “Because if you’re terrible at it, I might not let you do it again.”

“I promise I’m so, sooooo good at it.” He knew by Morgan’s look that she wasn’t going to budge so he gave a whiny sigh again and she got up, offering him her hands. “What’s this?” George grabbed her hands and she pulled him up. 

“You’re not going to sleep on the couch when you have a comfortable bed _like that_ to sleep in, are you?” 

“Are you staying?”

“Do you want me to stay?”

George suddenly looked vulnerable again, stepping closer to her. She held her breath as he looked down at her, his hands still latched onto hers. “Yes.” 

“Are you going to behave?”

“Hmmm,” his eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. “Not really my strongest area, but I can try?” Morgan began walking towards George’s bedroom, her hands still in his, leading him with her. She helped him take off his button down shirt, because if she didn’t she was sure he was going to stumble and fall into the closet door. She examined the shirt and shook her head. 

“This…who patched this?” It didn’t take long for Morgan to realize it must have been Molly, and her cheeks went red. “I’m sorry, I am incredibly judgmental when it comes to things like this.”

“I’m so telling her.”

“Don’t you dare!” 

“Then you’ll have to invite her to _your house_ for Sunday lunch!” He teased, loosening his belt and sliding his trousers down without thinking. “Mum will give you a half hour lecture on how I’ve probably ripped that same spot about a hundred times…” Morgan turned around, her hands over her eyes before George looked down and smiled wide. “Oh, oops?” He shuffled around for lounge pants and pulled them on, tossing another pair to Morgan.

“What’s this?”

“You’re not going to sleep in denim trousers are you?” Morgan turned around and looked at her pants. 

“Why not?”

“Oh just put them on and be comfortable. Stop being so bloody _uptight_.” Morgan’s mouth hung open like she was insulted and she pushed her jeans down, pulling George’s sweatpants over her. She could’ve likely pulled them up to her neck and they both laughed at how huge they were on her. Morgan climbed into bed before George did and he followed soon after. She didn’t remember getting into bed last time with him, so she was unsure what she should do.

George reached over and put his arm around Morgan’s waist, pulling her close to him. She didn’t say anything as she felt him relax, and she knew how he felt. He was lonely, just like she was. 

Morgan woke up at 5am. George was holding onto her like she was a life raft and the only thing keeping him from drowning. She didn’t want to wake him, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. She gently untangled herself from him, grateful that he was actually sleeping. The first thing she did was empty the rest of the contents from the bottle George was drinking from the night before. He had openly admitted that his last few years had been rough, especially with drinking.   
She cleaned up the rest of his kitchen, to which she found half opened containers of condiments, a jar of peanut butter that looked like it expired a year ago, and copy of Witches Weekly, the Cosmo of the Wizarding world. Morgan sat and read some of the articles, a laugh escaping here and there at some of the advice.

“You shouldn’t laugh at Witches Weekly, I get some of my best ideas from that one.” George looked so tired, as he shuffled his way into the kitchen. “Female teenagers will pay a pretty sickle for a love potion.”

“That is awful. Letting the youth have access to that stuff.”

“If fifteen-year-old Morgan had access to it, you wouldn’t have used it?”

“I never said that. I just said it was awful.” Clarifying her statement, George smiled at her.

“I wasn’t an arse last night was I?”

“As opposed to…” George looked shocked and Morgan laughed. “No, you weren’t. I’d say the opposite, actually. Cuddly and co-dependent.”

“Oof, sorry about that. Did we kiss?”

“Nope, but you tried. I think… three times?” Morgan tried to remember exactly, but she couldn’t. “Maybe two, I suppose I shouldn’t count the drool on my shoulder as an attempt.”

“Merlin, if I had any shame I’d be blushing right now.” They both laughed and he went to make coffee. They stayed silent for a minute and Morgan tapped her fingers on the counter.

“As someone who has a dead immediate family member and also likes to push people away rather than cope with it adequately, I have to ask. Are you okay, George?”

He didn’t turn around, stirring some sugar into his mug. “I’m fine. Really.” He was lying, and she knew he was. She would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed. “But honest to Godric Gryffindor, I do appreciate you asking. For some reason, it feels more sincere and not so much as an obligation like when the others do. Or don’t.”

George handed her a mug of coffee and she nodded. “I would offer to call out of work again, but I have a bride coming in at nine.” He rounded the counter and tucked a piece of Morgan’s hair into her loosened ponytail.

“You’ve already done more than you know.” He confessed. And if she wasn’t standing there in his sweatpants up to her bra-line with horrible morning breath, she probably would’ve kissed him first.

George had gone to shower when she left, leaving it easy enough for her to apparate back to her flat and clean herself up before work. She wondered what this back and forth was between them. They had both been hesitant to make more moves, but given their histories she could understand why. Morgan dressed herself in a much more professional way. She chose a pinafore style corduroy overall set in lavender. Her sweater underneath was a cream color and she tied it all together with tights and sneakers to be comfortable.

Louisa begged Morgan to show her how to make the pinafore overalls, and she promised that she would. Setting up for the bride and party that was coming in was going to be easy enough — Morgan had received the swatches of fabrics and colors she requested. Until then, she gathered all of her mending and knocked a few off of her to do list, thinking about how bad she wanted to get ahold of George’s button down shirt. 

But then she thought about watching him take it off and her mind started to wander. His freckled shoulders, that ridiculous grin he had… what the hell was he doing to her? She thought about the desperation she saw in his eyes the night before, as if he just wanted to be _loved_. Like a lost puppy, needing someone to follow around or maybe even someone for him to care for as well. Was she willing to get involved with him knowing that he had so much in the past to deal with? She shouldn’t judge with her own unresolved issues with her father’s death.

“Morgan!” She didn’t hear her name being called as she continued sewing and thinking about George Weasley. “Morgan! Your 9 o’clock appointment is here!” She finally snapped out of it and looked up at Louisa.

“Huh? Oh! Shit,” She muttered, quickly cleaning up her work space and taking her apron off. Morgan stood up to see Hermione, the bride, giving her a weak smile. She gave her a confident one, remembering their last meeting. But then she looked behind her to see the bridal party. And she spotted Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Fleur Weasley, a blonde she didn’t recognize, and Victoire all staring at her.

It was going to be an awfully long day.


	8. ten dates

“You know the Weasley’s?” Hermione’s nervousness was written all over her face. Morgan gave her a simple and composed smile and nodded. 

“Molly and I had a bit of a misunderstanding a few weeks back over something I mended for George. She’s invited me to lunch on Sunday’s. It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Morgan grabbed Hermione’s hands and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I won’t lie, I’m so excited to be doing a wedding. I haven’t had many since moving here.” She gestured for the party to follow her to a small room off of the main room which they cleared for appointments like this. “This room is just for you, please sit down, everyone.”

They followed their direction, Hermione looking more and more nervous by the second. “I know Molly, Fleur, Ginny, Victoire, and you. This is…” She motioned to the blonde. 

“I’m Luna, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You have lovely hair.”

“Thank you, I admire your pinafore.” 

“Thank you!” She made a mental note to wear this more often.

“Hermione,” Morgan sighed, but a smile was on her face. “You are the bride. This is an important day. It’s wonderful that you have the support of your friends and family, but it’s ultimately yours and Ron’s wedding. Tell me what you’re thinking for yourself, your ladies, and your flower girl?” The last part was a question and Hermione gave a small laugh.

Hermione was clearly a very organized and detailed person. She came prepared with a notebooks full of pictures and sketches and honestly, it was like she had done all the work for Morgan. “Okay, this is amazing. Let me go pull some dresses, which we can then _magically_ change to see if it’s what works.”

The next hour went better than she thought. The women were mostly in agreement on the bridesmaids dresses. Hermione really loved the dress that Molly wanted to wear, but was hesitant on the color. They argued back and forth over bright versus neutral colors. Hermione won out in the end, because Morgan chimed in about her own knowledge of muggle weddings and their demure colors sometimes. “It’s very elegant.” She assured the Weasley matriarch.

Hermione’s dress was last. She started out completely overwhelmed with a dress on that looked like someone had stuck her in the middle of a marshmallow explosion. Her hatred of it was clear all over her face as the other ladies gushed over it. “It’s over the top, it’s too much.” Hermione kept saying, hardly being able to move in it. 

Morgan helped her out of it and into the next one. Less puffy, but still a bit theatrical for the type of person Hermione was. This one was met by genuine smiles and oh’s from the group. “Better,” she offered to Morgan. But Morgan knew what Hermione was waiting for. 

In the very tight dressing room, Morgan brought in the dress her and Hermione had spoken about. “Now, it’s not entirely finished. I know we are going to add some detailing to it. But this is the base of it. I’ll have to adjust it to your size, but here it is. Just as we discussed.” Morgan lifted the cover she had over the dress and Hermione’s eyes lit up.

“Morgan, this is… exactly what I wanted. I… I’m actually speechless.” She could see the sincerity in Hermione’s eyes and she nodded for her to put it on. “Morgan, I love it so much. It’s.. light and I can move. But I feel like a princess. Like…”

“Cinderella?” Morgan offered and Hermione nodded. “Let me introduce you so we can give it the best chance. Make it dramatic. I feel like they tend to enjoy a bit of drama.” Hermione laughed, still looking at herself in the mirror and Morgan couldn’t have been happier. This was why she loved making wedding dresses.

The room was completely silent except for Victoire’s gurgles as Hermione stepped in. “Oh mum, look at her!” Ginny nudged Molly who looked like she was about to weep. “Mione, it’s like this dress was made for you! Morgan you have a wonderful eye.”

“Oh no, Hermione just told me what she liked and I provided.” Even Luna looked giddy as Hermione twirled in the dress. “Hold still for me for a second.” Morgan waved her wand and a bit of lace appeared on the neckline, and she added a bit of shine to the fabric of the dress. “Is this too much?” 

“No, no. It’s perfect. It really is.” Hermione kept smiling at herself in the mirror. “I love it, Morgan. This is most definitely my wedding dress.”

She felt like she could’ve done anything after the day she had at work. As Morgan locked up the shop, she had a huge grin on her face. She had managed to get a bit of work done on Hermione’s dress, finish up most of her orders, and got to show Louisa the pattern for the pinafore overalls she was wearing. She’d call that a very successful day.

“You look awfully pleased.” George was walking up to the shop, hands in the pockets of his coat with a big smile on his face. They hadn’t made plans for tonight, but Morgan couldn’t ignore the hop in her stomach when she saw him. 

“I had a very good day at work today. In fact,” Morgan reached out and poked Georges chest playfully, “My bride this morning was your future sister-in-law.”

“No!” George gave a dramatic gasp. “Did the whole circus come as well? I can’t imagine my mum wasn’t there weeping and passively aggressively giving her opinions.”

“Oh yeah. It was quite a morning.” They shared a laugh as Morgan adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Mmm,” George looked a little nervous, rocking a bit on his heels as he thought for a second. “I was in my office before and I got to thinking about how when I got off of work there were two things that I really wanted to do. One was to go the pub, maybe call Ron or Harry for a pint, inevitably stumble home and probably drink more. The second, was come here and see you. Because I keep overthinking it and I’ve honestly been dying to do this…”

George stepped to Morgan, grabbing her face with his hands and kissed her. His nose was cold, but his hands were warm. She put one of her hands on the back of his neck, the other on his coat as she got into it. He was a damn good kisser. This was what had worried her from the beginning, not wanting to stop. George pulled her close, one arm snaking around her waist.

Morgan pulled away first, determination in her eyes. “I need to breathe. Fuck, you’re a great kisser.” She initiated the next kiss, needy as they made out in front of Madam Malkin’s shop. 

George’s mouth lingered from her lips to her neck, his mouth close to her ear. “Come back to my flat.” She let out a small moan, as her hand ran through his hair, but she pushed him off.

“What are your intentions?” 

George’s stare was intense, but he always had that gleam of mischief in his eyes. “First, I’m going to touch every inch of your skin with my hands while I memorize your body because it’s bloody brilliant.” He took a step forward. 

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Morgan breathed, pushing her hair out of her face. “No, I mean what are your intentions, for us? I don’t… I don’t know if I can handle just casual sex right now.”

“You’re not just casual sex, Morgan.” He softened when he said that. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted to leave work to see someone.” George confessed, “I’m _happy_ when I’m around you. I hate when you leave. I really fucking hate when you leave.”

Morgan breathed a laugh. This time she cupped his face, looking at him. “Ten dates.”

“Ten dates?” George’s eyes went wide. “Bloody hell woman, are you trying to make me wank myself every day!?” Morgan laughed and put her hand over his mouth to shut him up as people walked by with raised eyebrows. 

“Sex complicates things, don’t you think we’re complicated enough on our own?” George weighed this thought and sighed. She was right. He hated so much that she was right, but even he couldn’t think of a witty comeback in time to change her mind.

“Alright. Ten dates. We are counting my flat and cuddling as number 3!”

“No way! You don’t even remember trying to kiss me!”

“Worth a shot, but you never said this was off the table.” George grabbed her again and kissed her softly. Her whole body melted into his touch and she hated it. Hated how wonderful his lips felt on hers. Morgan knew he was going to use that completely to his advantage and she would have to stay strong. “I did have an idea for tonight, though.”

“Other than casual sex?”

“You would _not_ be casual sex.”

“Semi-casual sex? We have to be dressed in formal wear?”

George laughed and he kissed her lightly again. “See? That’s exactly my point. You get me to laugh.”

“Stop trying to flatter me to get my clothes off, Weasley.” Morgan gave him a pointed look and he grinned. 

“Come on,” He grabbed her arm and they apparated.

She knew they were outside of Diagon Alley, in no-maj London. The only reason she knew it was because of the immediate change of style of clothing, people on cell phones, cars speeding by. “No-maj London? Am I a tour guide now?” George grinned at her.

“I promise I have a plan.” George began walking now, pulling Morgan through crowds of people like he was an expert.

“Have you been coming to no-maj London? You’re very comfortable with the area.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to explore.” Morgan didn’t question it. While he might have not been the most methodical person, George usually had a general idea of what he wanted to get done. Eventually they stopped in front of a storefront. It was a cell phone store and George nodded his head. “Ta-da!”

“A mobile phone?”

“Have you heard of them? You can speak to people over them, hear them clearly. You can even send messages to another person in seconds. Seconds!” George stopped, as if he was catching himself from becoming excited like his father. “Merlin, I sounded exactly like my dad right there. But! That’s half the point. Dad’s going to piss himself when he sees them.” Morgan smiled, remembering how Percy said George didn’t see his family often. Maybe this was something to help him reconnect. “I’ve been watching the store for a while, and I couldn’t think of anyone I would want to be able to send messages to in seconds…. And then you came around and haven’t _left me alone_.”

“Fair enough.” Morgan said and she opened the shop to walk in. “Lord, act casual, George.” That was the last thing she probably should have said because George was just touching every little thing he could and Morgan was following him like a mother to a child, taking them out of his hands and putting them back. 

An associate made their way over to them and Morgan greeted him. “My girlfriend and I would like to purchase two mobile phone’s please.” George said it like he was an expert and Morgan laughed, because she knew he was being a jerk on purpose. She smacked his arm and he laughed. The associate, who couldn’t have been much younger than they were, looked confused.

It was a process. Morgan had never had a mobile phone before and they had to be activated and they’d get numbers. She was proficient in computers, so she didn’t think that the phones would be that hard for her. But when she saw the cost of them her eyes went wide. “George,” She said it softly, “This is pretty expensive. It’s like a month to month plan, to keep the service active. It’s not cheap.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Really. Whatever it costs, I want us to have them. I don’t even care, I’ll give you access to my Gringott’s vault.” Morgan rolled her eyes at the comment. The associate went wide eyed at the word Gringott’s. George and her laughed again. It needed to be on a credit card, so Morgan reached into her bag and pulled out a wallet and gave the man a rectangle square that he read something off of. George was completely fascinated.

When they left the store, finally, George apparated them back to his flat. They sat on his bed into the middle of the night playing with their new devices. Morgan tried to explain as much as she could about the phones. “But how do I get one of those plastic squares you gave to the shop clerk?” Morgan then had to explain credit and debit cards and George was, again, fascinated. He wondered why Gringott’s hadn’t thought of something like that yet, but then again, they had magic.

George caught on pretty fast, and the two of them were sending each other ridiculous messages, while sitting right next to each other. “Oh, shit. Wait. We shouldn’t waste these,” Morgan took out the paperwork she’d gotten and looked it over. “We can only send a certain amount per month of we get charged extra.” She kept reading the paperwork when her phone chimed. She looked at it.

_Don’t worry about the charges. I’m paying for them. Sleep here tonight? ;)_

Morgan looked at George who had his mischievous grin on and she tried not to smile but it didn’t work. “Are you going to kiss me goodnight?”

George didn’t waste one second, kissing her softly and pushing everything off the bed. They kissed for a while before they both started to get handsy. “Ms Davenport!” George gasped, “How many times do I have to remind you I am saving myself until marriage!” Morgan was laughing now as George buttoned his shirt up to his neck and scoffed. “Really, you should be ashamed.”


	9. code for a booty call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * 18+ content ahead *

George had spent the next four days showing up to Madam Malkin’s on Morgan’s lunch break. They would go eat together, make out in an alley for a few minutes, and then go their separate ways. The phones they got also kept both of them highly amused throughout the day. 

George: _Did you know I can put your name into my contacts as anything I want?_  
Morgan: _Yes, I did._  
George: _I just changed your name to “Lady who likes to stab things” in case someone ever confiscates this and I’m murdered. You will definitely be their number one suspect._  
Morgan: _And I’ll already be out of the country, tossing this mobile phone in the Atlantic as I sip on my martini in the Caribbean Islands._  
George: _You’re truly evil, woman._  
Morgan: _I have to go back to work! Or I’m really going to throw this phone in the Atlantic._  
George: _No!!! Wait!!! I’m bored!!!! COME BACK!!!_

Madam Malkin cornered Morgan on Wednesday and asked her about George. Morgan swallowed hard, unsure what to say. They hadn’t defined anything, she supposed they were dating. “I guess we’re dating?” She said weakly, “I’m not really sure.”

“I just want to make sure he’s not going to take your focus away from your job. The Weasley twins…” Madam Malkin stopped, as if she was just remembering that Fred was gone. “George Weasley is a troublemaker and I would recommend you just be careful.”

Morgan felt like she was being scolded by her own mother and she just nodded. It was sort of blatantly obvious that George was a troublemaker. Perhaps because of his older age and the absence of his brother, he had calmed down. Morgan didn’t really see him as troublesome at all. 

She got home and had dinner with her mom. They spoke about George and his family, and Morgan asked Rosalind if she had known Molly or Arthur when she went to Hogwarts. She couldn’t recall their names, but Morgan suspected they were older than her mom. She also knew her mom had been a Ravenclaw, so she thought Molly and Arthur had been in different houses than her. 

Morgan was cleaning up dinner when she heard her phone go off. 

George: _What are you up to?_  
Morgan: _Washing dishes and going to sew myself a dress._  
George: _Ah, have fun. Can’t wait to see the dress on you. Or on my bedroom floor. Ripped. Oops, I’ll pay you to fix it. Don’t worry._

Morgan couldn’t help but laugh out loud. She thought about it for a moment. “Hey mom,” She knocked lightly on her mother’s bedroom door. “Would you mind if George came over? I told him I’d mend a few shirts for him and I don’t want Madam Malkin to think I’m doing personal stuff on her time.” Her mother agreed and she ran her tongue over her teeth.

Morgan: _Want to come over? I can mend your shirts._  
George: _That is totally your code for a booty call, isn’t it?_  
Morgan: _I’m serious, you better bring your shirts!_

She sent her address and suddenly felt really nervous. She was going to allow George to come into her world. Her little flat she shared with her mom. Her couch, which was also her bed. Her antique sewing machine she valued over everything. Slightly panicking, she began cleaning up as fast as she could. Piles of fabric all over the living room, tossing her stuffed rabbit named Spock into a corner. 

When Morgan heard the knock on the door she froze for a second. But then she remembered she’d have to actually answer it and tried her best to look as easy going as possible when she did. And there was George Weasley, his hair damp cause it was raining, his dark brown coat lazily thrown on his body. Smiling wide as he walked into her flat. 

“My mom is in the bedroom, I expect her to come out and bother you eventually.” Morgan waved him to come in, out of the small foyer. “It’s not grand, but it’s home. Kitchen, bathroom, and living room slash Morgan’s room. Please don’t get excited at the prospect of sitting on my couch.”

“What is this!?” George immediately saw her sewing machine and she paused. He walked towards it and she hesitated.

“It’s my sewing machine. A no-maj sewing machine.” This was so incredibly personal for her, she almost wanted to tell him to get away from it. But George was interested in it. Any of her other wizard friends thought it was weird. “It was my grandma’s. She taught me how to sew on it.”

George could feel her reluctance and he backed away. “It’s fascinating. It must mean a lot to you.” Morgan sighed, her hands clasped tightly together and she nodded. “I’m sorry,” he crossed the room slowly to get to her. “This is my first time here, I shouldn’t be so energetic and all up in your space.”

“You didn’t do anything, it’s me.” Morgan confessed, giving him a weak smile. “Take your coat off unless you’re going to leave already?” She reached out and began unbuttoning his coat for him. Before she was done he leaned down to kiss her, he couldn’t wait any longer. Morgan smiled against his lips. 

“Alright, alright. Your mum is going to come out here and blast me into the next flat if she sees my hands all over you.” George gave her one last peck on the lips before he waved his wand and his shirts appeared. He looked at them, more than he cared to count. “I wonder how long I’ve had all of these. Half of them are probably handed down from Bill and Charlie.” Morgan grabbed them and just sat on the couch, her mind already thinking of thread and needles. 

“A lot of them look well worn.” She admitted, “I can line some of them to give them a little more time but they’re on their way out.” George finished taking off his coat and sat next to Morgan on the couch. “I’ll make you new ones.”

He smiled at her. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” She argued, “It’s not everyday you find a man who is willing to wear dark eggplant purple with polka dots. You’re a fabric lovers dream.”

“I knew it! I’m always in your dreams.” 

Morgan sighed. “You’re also exhausting.” She teased, and George pulled her into his lap to kiss her again. “I can put the television on if you want to watch something while I’m doing this.” She moved herself to be comfortable in his lap, her side against the arm of the couch while her legs hung over him. 

“Nah, I want to watch you work. Mostly, I just wanted to be near you. I didn’t have a great day.”

“I’m sorry,” Morgan frowned, reaching out to lightly caress his cheek. “What can I do?”

“Exactly what you’re doing.” She began fixing his shirts, using her wand to make him patches on some of his shirts, using fun patterns that he approved of. They sat like this for a few hours, Morgan didn’t even realize that George had fallen asleep. She wondered if he slept at all when he was alone. He had said he only slept when he drank and she hated that. 

“George…” Morgan whispered it into his ear, gently running her thumb over his cheek. “George I don’t want your neck to hurt, wake up so you can go back to your flat and sleep in your ridiculously comfortable bed I’d sell a kidney for.” He opened his eyes and smiled at Morgan. She moved to get off of his lap.

“Morgan…” He said it so delicately, his eyes having that same desperation as the night she found him on the couch with the bottle of alcohol in his hand. He squeezed her hand as she moved away from him.

“I’ll stay over. Let me just put this stuff away.” 

Saturday mornings were glorious. She could sleep as late as she wanted, however now that she was sleeping on a couch those late mornings were cut short when her mom got up. But today, Morgan wasn’t on the couch. She was big spooning George Weasley, in his abnormally comfortable bed. Or maybe it was just normally comfortable but she’d already wrecked her entire body from sleeping on a couch for six months.

“I love Saturday mornings.” George sighed, turning his body over and pulling Morgan to him. It was like the man was reading her mind and she didn’t even respond, she just fell back asleep. 

Morgan opened her eyes first, squinting to see the clock and that it was almost 10. She didn’t care, she had nothing to do today. George slept and she played with his hair. She let her fingers linger on his shoulder, covered in freckles. “You’re tickling me.” He grumbled and Morgan laughed. 

The both of them were thinking how good looking the other was first thing in the morning. Morgan made the first move, pushing him onto his back as she kissed him. After the ten date rule, they had both been hesitant on kissing in bed. But then they had both wound up in bed before they had even kissed.

“Morgan,” George mumbled it against her lips. “We should stop. I’m way too well rested right now…”

But instead, Morgan kissed down his neck, to his chest, and he muttered curses as she did it. “I think we’re about halfway there,” She lifted her head. “So we could get about.. halfway there in bed too.” She kept kissing down his stomach, and George couldn’t stop watching as her head went lower and lower. 

She was in complete control and fuck, she was skilled at what she was doing. As soon as she had his pants down Morgan’s hands and mouth went to work and George’s breath hitched as soon as she had touched him. She was smart. If she had him come first, he’d likely be out for the count for a while. 

Morgan was certain he wouldn’t be able to last long. She could see his hands gripping the sheets as she licked and sucked. He said her name with such frailty it was like he was worried saying it too loud would make him come faster than he wanted to. But mostly he was just breathing hard, and moaning. Which was exactly what Morgan wanted. 

He reached down to push her hair out of her face and she believed that was her signal that he was going to finish. He was looking right at her and she made sure she was staring right back at him as she swallowed every last drop that came out of him. His body couldn’t stop shaking for a minute and George was sure he was dreaming.

Morgan was so tender as she kissed back up his stomach, letting him regain his composure. George caught her lips fast, though, and although he might not have been able to give her everything he wanted to right now, there was no version of this that ended without him returning the favor. 

This time it was her neck that he licked and sucked. He could tell by the way she shivered exactly where the spot was, but his hand wandered down, easing its way past the elastic of her sweatpants and knickers. Morgan held a breath as his fingers brushed over her. “Merlin, you’re so fucking wet.” Her purred into her ear as he dipped one finger in and she moaned. 

“I don’t want you to be quiet.” He slid his second finger in and she cursed. Morgan began moving her own hips against his fingers and he smirked up at her. Her own smile was devious as he felt for the area he wanted, pressing against it when he did.

“George!” She yelled, involuntarily closing her legs as she looked down at him. “Lord, don’t tell me you can do wandless magic.” They both laughed innocently as he kissed her again. Softly this time, he didn’t want to go too rough on her. 

He fell into a rhythm, his eyes watching her the entire time as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. One of her hands tugged on his hair as he fucked her with his fingers, and he absolutely loved it. “Do you want to come?” He mumbled it against her neck and she whined a yes. His thumb found her clit and he began rubbing light circles on it as she moaned harder.

George kissed up to her mouth now, pressing harder and she cursed as she came. They laid still and quiet for a few minutes. They had clearly crossed a line, maybe intentionally, maybe not. 

“Was this a horrible idea?” George asked, suddenly.

“Was it bad?”

“Not at all. We can stay in bed all day and do that…” Morgan elbowed him and he laughed. 

“I think considering the circumstances we actually did quite well. We didn’t cross _too_ many boundaries.”

George gave a nod, moving his body to pull her close to his. “We’re a bit of a mess, though. I had plans for you today. Not quite that, don’t get me wrong that was the best way to wake up, but I have somewhere I want to take you.”

“I’ll go back to my flat and shower and get ready…” George cut her off by kissing her.

“Shower here.” 

“That’s dangerous.”

“Don’t I know it.”


	10. maybe I'm into that

Morgan made it a point to stay away from the bathroom as George showered. She wondered if this morning had been a mistake but he had been so vulnerable with her the night before, she wanted him to know she was there for him. Not that oral sex was exactly confirmation of that, but opening herself up to him was happening, just more slowly than intended.

She took the fastest shower of her life, mostly because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to say no if George came in and propositioned her. Morgan was glad she kept an extra change of clothes in her expandable bag. It came in handy back when she was previously using sex as a coping mechanism.

George smiled at her when she emerged from the bathroom in a baggy sweater and leggings. Her hair very wet and she scrunched her face up. “I smell like a man.” She laughed, sniffing her own hair. “Rugged. Strong. Determined.” Morgan made a fake muscle with her arm and George cracked up.

She rummaged in her bag and found perfume, spraying herself with it excessively. “Morgan, you’re making my flat smell like a tea shop. I’m scared old ladies in frilly skirts are going to pop out of thin air and manhandle me.”

They laughed and stopped for a second. “We’re good?” She asked him, serious for a second.

George walked to her, kissing her softly. “We’re brilliant.”

They were back in no-maj London, and made her close her eyes a block away from their destination. “I’m going to fall on my face, George!”

“No you’re not. I promise. Alright.. hold on. Okay! Open your eyes!”

“No way!” Morgan’s mouth went wide as she realized they were in front of a fabric outlet store the size of a warehouse. “George, I am going to tell you this because I deeply care about you. There is a very high chance you will have to carry me out of this building kicking and screaming.” George beamed and grabbed her hand to pull her inside. 

They spent an hour in there and George didn’t complain once. She could remember her first boyfriend getting so annoyed with her in a craft store because he wanted to go home and play video games. George picked out colors and patterns and matched ones that clearly didn’t go together begging her to make him shirts with mismatched pockets. She laughed so much during their adventure she wasn’t sure she’d be able to breathe without her stomach hurting for a week. 

Morgan was grateful she could get the fabric delivered to her flat because there was no way either of them could’ve carried it out without magic. She stopped by her flat to grab a few things before apparating back to George’s. 

They ate dinner and Morgan finished the last of his shirts. George liked to watch her work. She finally finished with a tired sigh and threw the fabric on the coffee table. “I have something for you.” She confessed, George’s eyes went wide. “I don’t want you to … it’s sort of like a _serious_ gift, but it’s only because I had the chance to get it and I thought of you and because of my dead dad and poor impulse control I got them.” 

“You are the _only_ person who can make a dead dad or brother joke and I won’t punch you, I’ll have you know by how serious this conversation is getting.” George pointed out with a crooked smile, rubbing her thigh gently. 

Morgan held her breath as she reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope. It was unmarked, and she handed it to George. He looked curious as he opened it, but his eyes widened and looked at her. “Morgan! These are Quidditch World Cup tickets! Bloody hell, how in the world did you get these!?”

“My mom works at the Ministry and I guess they get first pick. I figured your dad would be able to get them too but there’s a limit this year… so I got the ones offered to my mom. So your whole family can go together. I know you all really love Quidditch.” George looked at her, and for a second he looked like he was going to cry. “If you don’t like them it’s okay… you don’t have to pretend…”

“I just…” George shook his head, still staring at Morgan. He cleared this throat, blinking a few times. “This is the best present anyone has ever given me, honest. And you’re giving it to me for no reason. Other than you thought about me.” This made Morgan happy, because under his goofy exterior, she knew he was a little lost. She felt the same way. 

“Well, you deserve them. For going on six dates with me and not abandoning me in an alleyway.”

“Morgan Davenport. You have been astoundingly tolerant of me through six dates. How in the name of Godric Gryffindor do you think I would ever abandon you? Even so, after this morning I’m heavily considering kidnapping you.” There was a serious contemplative look on his face as Morgan laughed. The idea of her being a hostage was hilarious because as long as she got to stay in his bed she wasn’t going to complain. But he cleared his throat and looked at her. “Are you my girlfriend?” 

“Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Do _you want_ to be my girlfriend?”

“Depends on the terms.”

“The terms! What is this a contract!? I thought that only happens in marriage!?”

“Well I won’t be your girlfriend if you’re out banging every witch from here to Moscow.”

“Merlin’s beard, I’m so touched you think I could shag every witch all the way from here to Moscow, I might cry. Honest.” He pretended to wipe a tear and Morgan swatted his hand away from his cheek. “Fine. No, I’m not shagging anyone. Literally. I’m not, this aggravatingly adorable witch who I’m seeing won’t let me until ten dates.”

“If the wizard I’m seeing keeps complaining about it, I’ll make it twenty.”

“You can’t do that to your handsome, charming boyfriend.” Another gasp and he shook his head in disappointment at Morgan, a smirk on his face for referring to himself as her boyfriend. “It’s cruel and unusual punishment, really.”

“Maybe I’m into that.” She didn’t miss a beat and George beamed.

“You are incredible.” He kissed her, slipping his arms around her waist and pulled her close. 

She told George that she was going to Sunday lunch at his parents house with or without him. Morgan explained that she liked the socialization, his family was amazingly sweet, and that he of all people should know much family should be appreciated. George didn’t like that callout, but he also could tell that Morgan was thinking about all of the times she had canceled plans with her dad and now she would never get that chance back. They got annoyed with each other for a short time and Morgan went back to her flat. 

She showered and got dressed, and while she was putting up her hair her phone went off.

George: _I promise I’m not mad._  
Morgan: _I will see you at your parents._

George didn’t like that answer and he got nervous. But he still got dressed, sloppily, because it was his style. Morgan showed up to the Weasley’s first, as always, this time only with cookies she rushed to buy from a bakery. Molly scolding her again as she gave Ginny a look behind her back. Hermione was there this time and she was happy to talk about the wedding dress with her. They kept their conversation hushed so that Ron wouldn’t hear any of it.

When it came time to sit for lunch, Morgan went to her usual spot. Bill walked by and nudged Morgan. “Should I even bother?” 

Morgan just gave an awkward shrug and a weak smile. She didn’t know if George was going to show up. She didn’t know if anyone in his family even knew about her and George and she didn’t quite think it was her place to say something. Bill sat near Fleur and Victoire and as everyone began to eat is when George came through the door.

No one paid him any mind as he took his coat and hat off, but Morgan’s heart was racing. He casually slid into the seat next to Morgan, smirking at her as he did it. A few other people eyed them as he smirked at her and she focused back on her meal. 

“Three weeks in a row, can’t help but think there’s a specific reason you keep popping up on Sunday’s, Georgie.” Bill teased his brother, George looking up to meet Bill’s gaze. 

“Yeah, this week is because I wanted to see you all fight over these.” George reached into his pocket and tossed the Quidditch World Cup tickets down on the table.

“No bloody way, those are World Cup tickets! Where the hell did you get those!?” Ron was shocked as he reached for one.

“Morgan gave them to me.” George beamed, everyone’s eyes going to her. 

“My mom got them at the Ministry, we don’t pay much attention to Quidditch so… I just thought that…”

“Why would she give _you_ the tickets, isn’t she mum’s friend?”

“What!? She’s my girlfriend, of course she’d give them to me!” George said it casually and everyone started to make comments, Morgan red as a beet.

“I never confirmed that.” Morgan argued, teasing him for throwing her under the bus.

“You called me your boyfriend.”

“I said I was seeing someone, I didn’t specify who. You took it in the context I was talking about you.”

“You threatened to raise me to twenty dates.”

“For this I’m _seriously_ considering fifty.”

“You’re bonkers, _and_ you’re obsessed with me.”

“ _You’re crazy_ and so what if I am? You’re the one who went and bought us mobile phones and messages me every hour.”

“Oh, you are the one who comes into my flat and sleeps in my bed.”

“Because I’m worried you’re _not_ sleeping! And you can always kick me out.”

“Why would I kick you out when I can only sleep when you’re there? For Merlin’s sake, woman!”

Arthur cleared his throat and George and Morgan stopped. The entire table was looking at them. George and Morgan looked at each other and Morgan snorted first. George couldn’t hold in his laughter and he covered Morgan’s mouth as she snorted again. “Honestly woman, you’re impossible. Excuse us.”

He managed to get them outside before they both had a fit of laughter. Morgan was crying, George was bent over in laughter. Just when they thought they would stop, they’d look at each other and start all over again. It took them fifteen minutes to be able to breathe normally and for George to wipe the tears off of Morgan’s face. “Are you ready to go back in and face the jury?”

Morgan shrugged. “I’ve already been chewed out by your mom once, how bad could it be again?”

“I have one stipulation, though.”

Morgan raised her eyebrows, George kissing her softly. “Don’t ever say you’re not my girlfriend. You totally are.” Morgan pushed him with her hip and he laughed. When they walked back into the house everyone went silent again as they took their seats.

“Sorry-

“I’m sorry.” They both said it at the same time and everyone began giggling.

“Reminds me almost of Freddie and Georgie together,” Arthur pointed it out in a quiet tone and George’s face fell. Morgan grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. He squeezed it back. 

“Well, I think everyone can agree Morgan is lot better looking than Fred.” George swallowed hard and shook his head.

“And Fred was a lot better looking than _you_.” Ginny rolled her eyes and George’s smile was back on his face, tossing a potato at his sister.

“Oy, his girlfriend gets him bloody Quidditch World Cup tickets!” Ron looked at Hermione, who went red.

“Well, we’re paying for a _wedding_ , Ron.” She hissed at him, and George gave Ron a look that was meant to tease him. 

“Don’t worry Hermione, Percy’s still single. Still not too late to pick a different sibling.” Bill chimed in with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

Percy cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “Actually, I’d like to invite Audrey to lunch next Sunday to meet everyone. We’ve been on nearly ten dates, I think it’s getting serious.”

“ _Fucking hell, Percy is going to get laid before me_.” George leaned into Morgan with a groan and she almost spit soup out of her nose. 

“Missionary, lights completely off, under the covers. I bet he puts on music from the 70’s to set the mood.” Morgan added, George not being able to control his laughter again. “Shhh, we’re going to get in trouble again.”

“I think it would be lovely to have her, Percy.” Molly said it with a pleasant smile. Her eyes then turned to George and Morgan. Morgan wished she could just apparate away from the table, because she could see Molly furrowing her brow. “And why didn’t you two tell us you are dating!? How long has that been going on!?”

“Oh, months really, mum. Been sneaking around your back the entire time. We set up the whole overcharge thing to get a reaction from you.” George explained, lying straight through his teeth.

“No, we did not.” Morgan shook her head. “He still hasn’t paid me for the _other_ twelve shirts he had me mend, either.” George looked at her like he had been betrayed and she smiled.

“Wow, who would’ve thought we’d see the day Georgie met his match?” Ginny laughed her comment, most of the family agreeing. “Is she making the suits for the wedding too?” Ginny looked to Hermione who looked at Morgan with a frown.

“I was meaning to ask… all we really need are shirts and vests…”

“Consider it done, it’s not a big deal. Honest.” Morgan smiled at her. She could see that Hermione was very tightly wound, and she would do anything to help her stay calm. “We don’t even have to go through Madam Malkin’s, I’ll do it as a wedding present.” Everyone began to object, but Morgan just shook her head. “Listen! I have no other talents! The only talent I have is being able to sew garments for people, please let me do this for you.”

“That’s a lie.” George added to the silence. “She can drink four stouts in two hours and still stand. I consider that a bloody talent.” Morgan sighed and put her head in her hands. The sooner she accepted this is what dating George Weasley was like, the better off she’d be.


	11. a gaggle of Weasley's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *mentions of grief*

“A hoard of Weasley’s.”

“A colony of Weasley’s.”

“A _litter_ of Weasley’s”

“You definitely just compared them to dogs.”

“Not to be rude. But, I mean… they love food, they're always happy to see you...” Morgan frowned as her and Harry stood at the doorway of Madam Malkin’s taking in the sight before them. The entire Weasley family was swarmed in the shop, talking, gossiping, arguing. Pretty much no form of communication was off the table. It was measurements day, and Morgan and Louisa had closed early to allow for this commotion.

“A pack of Weasley’s?”

“A parliament of Weasley’s?” Harry nodded at Morgan’s comment. 

“They’d probably all agree on that one.” 

“I’m not sure, now I’m reconsidering the gang of Weasley’s. Makes them sound a lot more intimidating than they are.” Morgan hummed, her hand going to her chin as she watched Louisa fumble around Ron who looked like he would rather be anywhere but here right now.

“Who says we’re not intimidating?” George came up behind Morgan and Harry, eyebrows furrowed as he caught the last part of the conversation.

“You’re all easily distracted by food and no-maj gadgets. Hardly intimidating.” George pretended to look insulted and Harry laughed. Because it was true. “Why does Ron look so miserable?” Morgan didn’t realize how blunt that came across but George had to agree, he looked like he was about to cry.

“I’m not sure he really wants to get married right away.” Harry confessed. This surprised George, who gave a very confused look.

“Isn’t he the one that got down on one knee and asked her? Can’t really complain when he got himself into this situation…” Morgan nodded in agreement on that point.

“I don’t think he expected Hermione to plan it all in six months.”

“It’s _Hermione_ ; if he wanted to wait ten years he should’ve asked Luna to marry him.” They all laughed at that one and Morgan shook her head.

“He should tell her. Honestly, compared to all the other brides I’ve worked with over the years, she seems just as hesitant as he does.” The three of them all looked on curiously as Louisa finished up her measurements. 

“And for the record, we decided on a gaggle of Weasley’s. It was formally adopted on a family trip to our Aunt’s house in 1994.” Harry and Morgan just looked at George with a disappointed look and he grinned wide. 

They lost track of the number of dates they had been on. As their relationship progressed, it became clear that they were relying on each other more and more emotionally than they were physically. Sure, the jokes and comments were still there. But when George woke up from sleeping two nights in a row and saw Morgan on the other side of his bed drooling, he was more grateful than horny. 

He noticed Morgan more down than normal one evening. They were having an off night, and she grabbed her bag to leave. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to go home. I’m tired. And I think I should be with my mom.” George didn’t understand, and he looked concerned as she moved to the door. “We are good, I promise. It’s me. Really, George. It’s me tonight.” All he could do was frown sympathetically as she apparated back to her flat.

Morgan knew she should’ve told him what today was. She should have let him know that it was the anniversary of her dad’s death. She thought that if she didn’t think about it then it wouldn’t be real. She cuddled up in bed with her mom, who had spent her hours home from work crying too. They laid like that for a while, before Morgan heard her mobile phone chiming. She scoffed, the only other person who had a phone was her mom who was with her. 

“Is it George?” Rosalind asked, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Yeah. I sort of left in… a rush? A wave of sadness? I don’t even know what to call it?” Sighing, she looked at the message he sent.

George: _I miss you. Floo’s open if you need me._

Morgan rested back on the pillow and her mom glanced over to read the message. “He seems like a very good man. From the few times we’ve spoken he’s very polite and charming.”

“He is. His brother died in the Battle of Hogwarts, he’s got his own grief with that. Together I think we’re either laughing hysterically to avoid it or we’d be a huge sobbing mess.”

“You know, I can only give you advice based on the twenty-five years your father and I were together. But we never kept anything from each other. That’s part of what a relationship is, darling.” Rosalind grabbed one of Morgan’s hands and patted it. “There is an unspoken reliance on each other. If you went to George right now and broke down, would he comfort you or try and brush it off?”

“He’d comfort me.” Morgan didn’t have to think twice about it. As charming and witted as he was, George was incredibly soft and gentle underneath. Maybe most didn’t know too much about that side of George, but he had shown her that early on. 

“I worried so much when we left Georgia that bringing you here was a mistake. I felt guilty and responsible for taking you away from everything you knew. But then I also know how much like your father you are, you’d never let me be alone. Maybe we were meant to cross the ocean so you and George could meet.”

Morgan took a deep breath, letting her head rest on her mother’s shoulder. “Tell me the story of how you and Dad met again.”

Rosalind nodded, grabbing both of her daughters hands in hers. “I had just started working for MACUSA. Their robes are a bit different from ours over here, you know. I went into a robe store and there was this handsome dark haired man who kept looking at me from the other side of the store. He made his way over to me with a piece of dark blue velvet and held it up to me, without warning. He said ‘Now, Lucy —the seamstress —, don’t you think this little peach should be able to buy a robe in this fabric. She’d turn heads!’ And then he stopped and looked at me, his signature smile spread on his face as he held his hand out. ‘Better not,’ he said ‘Not sure I want any other men lookin’ at you when I take you on our first date’ and I laughed.” Morgan had tears coming down her cheeks as her mother told it. Rosalind as well. “I felt like my heart had done a back flip, my stomach had zoomed up into my throat, and my knees felt wobbly. You know what your father’s version of the story was.”

“Love at first sight,” Morgan said it softly, wiping her nose and eyes with her sleeve. 

George heard the floo at close to midnight and he got up quickly, rushing to the fireplace as he saw Morgan brushing the dirt off of her shirt. She had been crying, and the sight of her with red splotches all over her face, looking like she was properly defeated, made his heart hurt. “ _Morgan_ ,” He said it in a whisper, concern all over his face as he held his arms out to her and she clung to him. Much like he had done so many times in the last few months, a small strand of happy in sea full of dark and depressing thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” She sniffled, covering her face with one of her hands. “I should have told you. Today is the… it’s been a year since…” Morgan couldn’t get the last words out without choking on them and George held her tighter, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her back.

“Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for that.” He pulled her down on the couch and kept his arms around her. They didn’t say anything, but George was more comfort to her than he knew. They fell asleep on the couch, Morgan still wrapped up in his arms. All she could think before she drifted off was that she was so glad she came back. 

The woke up normal the next morning, except that George cursed at the pain in his neck and Morgan was sure her left leg was going to be completely numb for the rest of her life. They still didn’t get up, though. George wanted to know she was okay. “Do you want to skip the Weasley lunch spectacular today? I’ll send mum a note saying we’ve caught something awful…” George thought about the for a second and then shook his head. “Actually, maybe not mention anything about being sick because then she’ll come _here_ and try to coddle us.”

“Bring the whole family…” Morgan offered.

“All of us end up in my bed to eat. It’s got the biggest surface area, really.”

“Practical.”

“ _Messy._ ” Morgan laughed and George kissed her cheek. “As someone weaving through the messiness of his twin brother’s death, I have to ask if you’re alright?” He said the same thing to her that she had told him, a twinkle in his eye that he had remembered. 

“I think so.” Morgan sighed, “I just didn’t imagine it would all come out like that.”

“Do you want to talk about him? I don’t really know anything about him. What was his name? Cowboy? What do southern American’s name their children?” George joked, and he was glad he got Morgan to smile at least.

“His name was Edward. But he was a junior, which is overly common in the states. So everyone called him by his middle name, Duke.” Morgan went quiet for a minute. “He was incredibly kind. My mom was always the disciplinary parent. Every time I walked out the door he’d give me five bucks. Or come home with some sort of treat like candy. He loved to make people smile. Always loved to be in a crowd, surrounded by people.” 

“He got a no-maj disease. Pancreatic cancer. It was too late when they diagnosed him. We even took him to a magihealer to see if they could help. But they said because he was no-maj if they used magical interventions it’d probably just kill him faster. His body would go into too much shock.” She was distant again, looking at the window, like she was almost reliving a memory. “The doctors gave him three months. He lasted one. We got to say goodbye, though. We got to give him a really amazing last few weeks.” She thought about how George didn’t get that. 

George sighed, kissing her hair lightly and running his hand down her arm. “I was serious about skipping lunch, though. If you’d rather not go.”

Morgan thought about it for a minute. She wasn’t crying anymore. She doubted she had anything left in her to let out at this point. “No, I think I want to go. Your family cheers me up.”

“That makes one of us,” He rolled his eyes with a pretend annoyance. 

“Plus we have to plan your birthday for next weekend.”

“I don’t think I want to celebrate getting older.”

“… or is it because it’s also Fred’s birthday?” Morgan said it quietly and George looked down at her, his face sad. She was right. She usually was when it came to matters like this.

“He was the leader between the two of us. I might have come up with a lot of the plans, the material, but he acted. Fred would plan the parties, I’d provide the content. I was always on board, but he was never hesitant to take the first step out of our comfort zone.” 

“You let me know and I’ll push you out of your comfort zone.” Morgan smirked.

“Fred really would’ve liked you.”

“My dad really would’ve liked you.”


	12. weighing the pros and cons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * mature content ahead *

They managed to get up and get dressed. Morgan even found time to make a pasta salad to bring. George was busy trying to figure out what the hell a pasta salad was (the Weasley’s new hobby seemed to be trying Morgan’s American food) and offered to assist. When they used the floo to get to the Weasley’s, which was becoming a weekly routine, Molly scolded Morgan for making something, which all of the Weasley men then went to inspect. 

Percy’s girlfriend Audrey was actually a real person (and Molly shot George and Morgan a very angry look when she finally came to lunch and they both turned to each other and said “she exists!”), and much more shy than anyone had anticipated. Morgan did her best to talk to her during their meal, but she was rather closed off. She tried to remember how she felt the first few times she came to lunch. It was intimidating to be around all of them.

Ron and Hermione were missing, which was odd. But Andromeda and Teddy were here again and it made Morgan smile. She loved to play with Teddy and Victoire. She hadn’t been around a lot of children, but she liked having an excuse to get on the floor and chase them around.

They were in the middle of lunch, discussing plans for the Quidditch World Cup in a few months, when they heard shouting outside. George leaned behind Morgan to cover Percy’s mouth who was still rambling on. “Shhhhh! Percy, some of us like gossip in this house.”

“Well then you know what, Ron? Why did you ask me to marry you!?”

“Bloody hell Hermione I thought we’d be engaged for a few years. You had the whole wedding planned in a week! I didn’t think you’d go off in supersonic speed to get hitched!”

“I don’t know how to do anything else, Ron! Time is so precious, so … you shouldn’t have asked if you didn’t want it to happen right away!”

“You shouldn’t have said yes if you were going to guilt me into it because you’re so bloody worried about time!”

“Merlin, you aggravate me so much!!! Sometimes you’re such… you’re such a prick!!!” Hermione yelled and there was a crack. No one said anything, the entire table was silent. One of them had apparated. Naturally, it was assumed it was Hermione.

“We should make noise,” Ginny pointed out and everyone gave a collective yes. Molly had one of the most concerned faces, hesitantly scooping out something and putting it on Arthur’s plate. “Audrey do you like Quidditch?”

The conversation resumed and Ron never came into the house. George was the one that got up after eating and went outside. Morgan left him alone; she didn’t have any siblings and she didn’t want to meddle in things that she shouldn’t. She helped Molly with the dishes and then offered to take Teddy and Victoire outside.

The kids and her ran around outside in the back, while Ron and George looked like they were seriously talking in the front. Morgan was using her wand to build the kids a fort out of branches when George and Ron approached her. “Wicked, but I don’t think that’s tall enough for me to get into…” George pointed out.

“Go ahead Teddy. Show George the defense system we put in place.” Teddy pulled out a slingshot and pelted George with a pebble.

“Bloody hell, that hurt!” He looked so proud, and he patted Ron on the shoulders. “C’mon let’s build these kids a proper Weasley brother’s fort.”

The three of them became way more interested in the project at hand than the kids did. Mostly Morgan just chased Victoire as she crawled around and Teddy shot pebbles and mud balls up in the sky. Ron had grabbed a bunch of dry grass fronds and was making a roof. “Pass me some of that extra rope.”

“Careful Ron, Hermione might tie your hands together and force you into marriage.” George teased him and Ron scoffed, tossing a small rock at him.

“I don’t see where I’m wrong. Marriage is a huge commitment. Isn’t it better to talk about it before making a huge decision like that.”

“Hermione did ask you why you asked then, which I agree with.” Morgan chimed in, running after the baby again.

“So what? He should have said _Hermione will you marry me? Also I don’t want to to actually get married for a few years!_ ” George looked at Morgan.

“No, she also should have said something. You can’t just ask a question like that and give an answer like that without some sort of discussion. I’ll give you credit for mentioning it now, though. Just should’ve been discussed sooner.” Morgan shrugged.

“Don’t listen to her, she negotiates everything before she does it.” George said it like Morgan wouldn’t be able to hear what she was saying and she stuck her tongue out at him. “Really mature, Davenport.” 

“At least we know where we stand with each other.” Morgan pointed out and George looked a bit uneasy. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’m right.” This time George stuck his tongue out at Morgan. 

“You two really are made for each other. It’s sickening.” Ron shook his head, noticing Harry started towards them and nodded at him.

“Whoa, that fort is awesome. Can I help?” Harry grabbed some branches and him and Ron debated on putting another room on the side of it. George got up, wiping his hands on his pants and jogged towards Morgan.

“How mad do you think Fleur would get if we tossed Victoire around like a ball?” George asked.

“But... if we charm a net under her?”

“Are you good at charms?”

“I'm absolute shit at charms.” George laughed and Morgan turned Victoire around in her arms. George looked at her for a moment, a stupid, classic grin on his face. “What?”

“Nothing. You just look absolutely adorable holding my chubby baby niece in your arms.”

“Oh no, don’t you even think anything like that, Weasley!”

“What!? I can’t say my girlfriend looks cute holding a baby!?” Morgan took off to walk into the house, George following very closely behind her.

“Please take your ridiculously cute baby back before my boyfriend gets baby fever!” Morgan handed Victoire to Bill who looked very confused.

“I _do not_ have baby fever! And even I did, what’s the big deal!?”

“Do you see all of the redheads we’re surrounded by!? I don’t know what’s in the drinking water here but…” Morgan’s eyes went wide. “Sorry-“ She said off to the side to Molly and Arthur. “If you _think_ the word baby and come near me I might get knocked up. That’s it, you’re banned!” Morgan gave him a huge grin. “Arms length at all time, Weasley!” 

George look thrilled as he took a step forward. “ _Baby._ ” He said it and Morgan shook her head. “BABY!” Morgan tried to stay strong but began laughing. “Morgan Davenport, what else are we going to use to play catch when we’re bored!?” He made a run for her and she dodged him, escaping to the other side of the living room.

“Please tell me you _were not_ tossing my daughter around like a ball.” Bill said it flatly and Molly gasped. 

“Nah, I’m horrible at charms! Couldn’t conjure a net!” Morgan yelled as George continued to chase her. “Safety first! You hear that George!? _Safety first!_ ” They both cracked up and she squealed as he almost grabbed her and they both made a dash for the door. Everyone inside looked slightly confused, but also had small smiles on their faces to see George so happy and playful.

“Teddy I’ll give you all the candy you want if you catch Morgan!” George stopped to catch his breath as the blue headed child made a beeline for Morgan who slowed down on purpose. 

“No!!! No, he’s too strong!!” Morgan got overly dramatic as Teddy caught up and grabbed her. She fell to the ground and Teddy jumped on her. “Oof! Dear lord, child.”

George gave Teddy two chocolate frogs for dinner behind his grandmother's back.

They both collapsed onto George’s bed when they apparated back to his flat after lunch. “Kids are exhausting.” George offered, pushing his hair out of his face. “How in the world did my parents manage us? Insanity.”

“Your parents deserve an award, really.” 

“We should make them one.”

“Oh! I can make them patches for their robes.”

“Insist they wear them every day. Or I’ll cry.”

“How could they say no?”

“ _But Morgan spent hours making these. By hand!_ ” George laughed, Morgan stood up to change her shirt. It was covered in dirt and grass and maybe a stain of tomato sauce. She looked at it and shook her head.

“These grass stains are going to be a real pain to get out.” Morgan inspected it more. “If we ever have kids you should invent a fabric that’s grass stain resistant. You’ll be exceptionally wealthy in no time.” George smiled wide at her, not giving her a response. “What?”

“You just said if _we_ have kids…”

Morgan’s mouth shut and there was definitely a rise of red in her cheeks. “Well, I was just saying that because it’s a good idea, isn’t it?”

“Oh no, Morgan. No backtracking on this one. You totally want to have my adorable red headed babies…” George got up, grabbing Morgan quickly and she yelled as he did it.

“Well not right now!” She nudged him as he kissed her softly, his fingers playing with her hair.

“I love you, you know that?”

“Mmm,” Morgan smiled, squinting her eyes a little bit. “You should probably say it again just in case I forget.”

“I love you.” George said it with a huge smile, kissing her lips lightly a couple of times. Morgan laughed every time he kissed her, so he just did it more.

“I love you.” She finally pulled back long enough to say it to him back. George kissed her again, downright giddy.

Hermione came into Madam Malkin’s midway through the week. Morgan was quick to spot that she was putting on a brave face as she approached her. “I’m so sorry, Morgan, but Ron and I have decided to postpone the wedding until further notice.”

Morgan reached out to hug her, and surprisingly, Hermione wrapped her arms around her tightly. “Hermione, it’s okay.” Morgan whispered as she could feel the poor girl breaking down in her arms. She didn’t understand the dynamic between Ron and Hermione, and she wasn’t sure many did. But she also didn’t like that she was crying in her shop, and she felt super bad about it. “I will put everything aside and keep it just as it is until you guys decide you’re ready.” 

“I don’t know how to stop.” Hermione confessed with a wipe of her tears. “Ever since the war, I’m just so worried there won’t be enough time.” She shook her head, sniffling for a second. “I’m sorry Morgan, I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you. Thank you for all of your help, really.”

“I know it’s not my place, I don’t know a lot about you or Ron. But my mom once told me… recently, actually, that one of the biggest parts of a relationship is that you should rely on each other way more than you think you should. I bet if you told Ron what you just told me, he’d understand more than you think.” Morgan smiled and squeezed her hand. “He really loves you, by the way. He was miserable when you left lunch on Sunday. Couldn’t even smile while he was building a fort or when Teddy shot George with a slingshot.”

Hermione laughed, and nodded. “I’ll see you at George’s birthday dinner tomorrow night.” Morgan just gave her a wave and watched as she walked out the door.   
Louisa came over and gave Morgan a mischievous smirk. “Look at you. Maybe you should consider charging for your services.”

Morgan rolled her eyes, “Please. I’m honestly the last person that should be giving romantic advice. That was really just recycled from my mom.”

“Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday.” Morgan kissed George on every part of his face when he woke up on his birthday and he pretended like it annoyed him. 

“Bloody woman, can’t keep her bloody hands off of me,” George mumbled, finally rolling her over and settling himself on top of Morgan. 

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll find other ways to keep my hands busy then.” George’s eyebrows raised as Morgan smirked, her hand wandering down his body and pressing on him until she could feel him getting harder. 

“I think I might have been mistaken last week when I said I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday because you seem like you’re very good at giving presents. I haven’t even been awake for — _fuck, Morgan_ — five minutes and this is the best birthday ever.” George bent down to kiss her, growling, as Morgan freed George from his boxers and continued using her hands on him.

“I hope you slept well last night,” Morgan hummed in his ear as she grabbed one of George’s hands and place it on one of her breasts where he let out a curse and began squeezing, easily slipping his hand under her shirt like he really wanted. “ _Oh god_ , you’re going to need your energy for this.”

Morgan loved that he was lost in his own pleasure as he squeezed and twirled her nipple, his hips lightly meeting the rhythm of her hand. They’d messed around a few times here and there, the ten date stipulation had long gone and it just hadn’t felt right. Like it wasn’t the right time, or someone was scared it wouldn’t be good. It took Morgan a while to realize if they just acted they wouldn’t get lost in their own heads. 

She loved that he slept shirtless so she could kiss his arms and his shoulders. She didn’t think seeing freckles splattered all over his chest and collarbone could be a turn on, but it did it for her every time she saw him without a shirt on. George’s hand wandered down and he licked her neck as he found her clit, slowly working his thumb over it as she let out a soft moan. 

He loved that noise; he loved that he wast the one that made her moan like that and he smiled against her skin as he continued. George didn’t even realize that Morgan was shoving his pajama bottoms down and he stopped, pulling his head up to look at her. 

“What?” She asked in an exhaled breath, George’s thumb still circling on clit. She whined when he stopped and he smiled.

“I don’t want you to think that just because it’s my birthday we have to go further.” 

“I don’t want _you _to think that I haven’t been thinking about this for the last week and I didn’t get the courage to actually do it until today.” Morgan challenged. She grabbed George’s hardness again and he groaned. “This is just a normal Sunday morning.” He grabbed the waist band of her pants and shoved them down. She sat up to pull her shirt off.__

__“I love you,” George said it in a raspy voice, his lips back on her body. “I love your face. I love your lips.” Morgan gave a soft laugh as he continued. “I love your neck, and fucking hell I really love these.” His hands cupped her breasts as he kissed down._ _

__Morgan’s hand threaded through George’s hair as he kissed her every where. “I really love your bed.” She teased and he laughed against her skin._ _

__George’s eyes darted up to look at her face. “Move in with me.” He said it simply, kissing her hip bone which made her sigh happily._ _

__“I’ll take your offer into consideration.” She smirked down at him and he looked at her hungrily. “Have to weigh all the pros…” George slipped a finger inside of her and she moaned loudly. “And cons… but right now there’s not a lot of cons, _dear lord_ how are you so good with your hands? Oh! My! God, George!” Her breath picked up as she felt his mouth on her clit, licking and sucking and humming into her in absolute bliss._ _

__“You’re almost there, love.” George encouraged her as he continued and he could see her squirming. Her hands gripped his hair and tugged lightly which made him groan. He snaked his arms around her thighs as he used his mouth faster and steadied her while she came. Morgan cursed her legs shaking the entire time and George looked proud as ever. “I don’t think I’ll ever not want to watch your face when you come.” He kissed back up to her lips and she shivered. “Morgan we really don’t have to.” He confessed, though the hardness brushing against her inner thigh said otherwise._ _

__“George, _please_.” She looked at him and he could see she felt vulnerable right now. But God, she looked so fucking beautiful with her face flushed and her breasts pressed against his chest. “I want you.”_ _

__They could both feel that this wasn’t just physical and in the silence that followed it was an unspoken acknowledgment. George clenched his jaw as he slowly entered her. Every last sexual encounter he’d had was rushed, a means to an end. He wanted to feel every single part of this. “Fuck, you feel so good.” She was so tight around him, he was scared of going too far. She he began move and she gave him an approving moan as he did._ _

__It took a few minutes but Morgan shifted and George groaned, trying to be easy on her. She looked confused and then she grabbed his chin. “Give me all of you, don’t hold back.” He could’ve come right there just from the order and he looked so hesitant still. Instead of waiting for him to listen, she just spread her legs further, leaving him no option but to press himself deeper. “God, yes!” She breathed, he just leaned down to kiss her as he moved again._ _

__They worked incredibly well together, easily finding better angles or positions that got each other to curse or their breath to hitch for a second. “You need to come again,” George finally told her, a neediness in his voice. “I want to feel you…” He whispered it into her ear and she had to remember to breathe. “That’s it,” He told her as his thumb went back to her clit. “You’re bloody breathtaking.” He could feel her tightening around him. “I love you so much, you have no idea.”_ _

__His thrusts were desperate now as Morgan threw her arms around George’s neck. “God, George, I love you.” She couldn’t think straight as she finally felt the wave of pleasure reach its breaking point, clenching around him as she cried out._ _

__George couldn’t even make out words as he came, just pushed himself as deep as he could as he grunted and shuddered. He was buzzing, seeing stars, looking down at Morgan with so much love as she smirked at him and laughed. “Really?” He managed to breathe out. “We’re going to have a laugh right now?” But he could feel it starting._ _

__He climbed off of her and managed to lie next to her as they started to laugh harder. Gentle kisses, brushing hair out of each others faces. “Yes, by the way.” George stopped and looked at her with a puzzled face. “You asked me to move in. Way more pros than cons. Had to just make sure all of this,” She pointed between herself and him with a stupid grin. “Worked well together.”_ _

__“For fucks sake how did I end up with the one sassy witch in London?”_ _

__“Oh, you just got real lucky.”_ _


	13. as I'm singing him to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely recommend listening to Pale September by Fiona Apple which inspired this chapter.

“Now all you need to do is enter this number into the phone and hit the green button. That’s to make a phone call or accept a call.” Morgan was showing Arthur how to use the mobile phones that her and George had. George hadn’t been lying when he said that his father was obsessed with no-maj inventions. He practiced on Morgan’s phone, accidentally dialing someone in Sweden and sending a message to a random number. 

George was on the other side of the living room, a devious look on his face and Morgan’s phone chimed. Arthur looked at the phone in his hand and read the message out loud. “Your chest looks phenomenal in that shirt?” Arthur looked completely confused and Morgan’s whole face went red and she gave George a nasty look. “George!” Arthur finally figured it out and made a scolding look at his son. “That is highly inappropriate to be sending in public!”

George laughed and Morgan looked mortified. “Don’t worry Dad, I’ll get you and mum phones.” He winked at his father who now had red cheeks and Morgan wished she could’ve just ran and hid in a corner for the next hour. 

She was less embarrassed as they ate dinner, it was in the middle of it that Ron cleared his throat. “I don’t want to steal your day, Georgie, but Hermione and I just wanted to announce that the wedding is back on.” Everyone raised their eyebrows up and no one asked any questions. Ron and Hermione had been going back and forth nearly every time they were together. No one could keep up with if they were or they weren’t anymore. 

Molly brought out a gigantic chocolate cake and Morgan could see George’s whole demeanor change. It wasn’t until the cake was in front of them that Morgan could see the cake said “Happy Birthday Fred and George!” And George swallowed hard as everyone sang to him. Morgan just put her hand on his leg and he grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it and looked at her. He mouthed a thanks to her as the singing stopped and took a deep breath before blowing out the candles. 

There was an awkward silence. “Well, what did you wish for, dear?” Molly asked and George raised his eyebrows, considering for a second.

“I can’t tell you that mum. Not only would it be bad luck, but Morgan would kill me considering it involves her dr-“ Morgan was not doing this again and she covered George’s mouth with her hand. Molly shot George a disappointed look and took the cake away to cut.

“I wished for you to be in nothing but a huge, fluffy bow when we get home.” He said it louder than a whisper and Bill and Harry snickered. Morgan hid her face in her hands and sighed.

“Okay, close your eyes. No, you’re still peeking! _George!_ ” Morgan pulled him along in no-maj London where cars were beeping and sirens were going off. It was so loud, but she had been planning this for a long time. “Wait, come here. CLOSE YOUR EYES!” George grinned and sighed in resolve, waiting for his next instructions. “Alright you can open them.”

They were standing outside of a theatre and the marquee said “Magic Show Tonight!” George’s face broke out into a huge smile and he squeezed Morgan. “This is amazing, Morgan. I’ve always wanted to see a muggle magic show. Do you really listen to everything I say?”

“I have no choice considering you never shut up.” Morgan gave him a cheeky smile and he squeezed her side playfully as they walked in. 

George couldn’t stop talking about the show after it was done. He reminded her of Teddy when George gave him free reign of his candy stash. “But could you imagine how they’d react if we had done some real magic? To go through all of that to just show an illusion. It’s brilliant. What dedication, really.” Morgan just smiled as he gushed about it, happy that he enjoyed his birthday present. 

They stopped for street food and George again, gushed about how amazing Muggle London was. And then asked why they didn’t visit it more often.

Morgan didn’t really have an answer. “We can if you want. What do you want to do? You got a phone, you saw a show. Book store? There’s probably a magic store somewhere. You know what would be so hilarious? You at Disneyworld.”

“Disneyworld?” This perked George’s curiosity.

“It’s this gigantic amusement park built by this guy named Walt Disney. He invented this mouse that he creatively named Mickey Mouse and turned it into a cartoon. Then he branched out and made more animated movies and then opened up parks with rides and events and things around those characters. Basically it’s a tourist money scheme and overpriced but it’s just something that a lot of no-maj families go and spend too much money on for the ‘sake’ of making memories.”

“That sounds absurd.”

Morgan laughed. “It’s so absurd.”

“There’s also this entire conspiracy theory that when he died his Disney cronies preserved his body in ice so that they could bring him back to life in the future.”  
“Now if I was going to visit anything for any reason, it would be to find that popsicle.” They both laughed as they finished their food and found a quiet alleyway to apparate in since they were both exhausted. “I was serious about you moving in.” George said it casually as he slipped his coat off. “Whenever you want.”

Morgan walked up to him, eying him as he unbuttoned the cuffs on his shirt. That always did something for her and she began unbuttoning his vest. “Maybe I’ll just never leave.” She teased.

“Well, I know you’re going to need to bring your sewing machine here. I’ve got a feeling that I’m about to tear a lot more than just my clothes.” His voice was low and it sent shivers down Morgan’s spine as he gently brushed his thumb over the hemline of her dress. 

This time they were much more needy; more comfortable in demanding what they wanted now that they had some sort of idea what the other enjoyed. Morgan couldn’t keep her eyes open afterwards, barely even remembering George helping her to put her knickers back on before she passed out.

The guilt got to George before he could fall asleep. Even as he stared at Morgan, mouth hung open, one of her breasts hanging out of her tank top (why did women wear them to bed if that happened _every time_?) he felt even more guilty. Guilty because he was here, happily in love, enjoying his birthday when Fred wasn’t. Guilty because he knew that he should be appreciating everything he still had; how much his worse his world could have changed that same day. But fuck, he missed his brother. 

He hadn’t turned to the mind numbing effects of alcohol since Morgan had begun staying over almost daily. She had a comforting presence he hadn’t experienced before. It also hung heavy on George that he knew part of it was because they could sit in the still silence of the dead of night with the memories and the ghosts and still be okay as long as they were together. 

He thought of Ginny’s comment that day at his parents; he needed to get help. What did help even look like? Nothing would bring Fred back. Everyone told him after a certain amount of time the sadness just stopped and all that was left were the good memories and feelings. 

What a bunch of shit.

George got a quarter of a bottle of something down before he hated himself more. He didn’t know why he needed to block out that grief tonight, but he knew he needed it. Did he? Or was it just a comfortable familiar feeling that reminded him of everything he wouldn’t be able to experience with Fred?

He hadn’t cried over Fred’s death in a long time. Much like Morgan on the anniversary of her father’s death — he was sure there wasn’t much else to get out. Tonight he was feeling different; that typical quiet in his head was exceptionally loud. Fred wouldn’t get to see Ron and Hermione get married. Fred didn’t get to meet Victoire. He didn’t get to sit in on the meeting where the shop got approved to expand to Hogsmeade. He didn’t get to see Voldemort’s dead body in the middle of the Great Hall. Even that didn’t bring George any sort of relief.

Fred would never get to meet Morgan.

That killed him the most; the way he had opened up and she had awoken something inside of him that he didn’t even know was still there. George had thought back over and over, when he did he fall in love with her? He felt like he couldn’t pinpoint it, was it when she made him hold his hands up longer than he needed when she measured him for robes? Was it when he bumped into her in Diagon Alley and she smirked at him when he called out to her? The first time they laughed so hard that George had to sit down because he wasn’t sure he could stand up without toppling over?

Maybe it was when she just sat with him and fixed his shirts; the way she got so annoyed when her thread broke, or when she hummed with pride when she finished it. How her eyes lit up when she teased him, or she bit her bottom lip when he kissed her precisely where he knew she couldn’t stifle her reaction. How her southern accent came out more when she spoke too fast, or too loud. How all of her weird muggle food somehow wound up actually being really delicious…

George was lost in his thoughts when he saw Morgan on the other side of the room wand in hand to turn the lights on. They looked at each other from across the room; but he was so relieved that he knew she wasn’t judging him. She slowly approached him, reaching for the bottle in his hands. He didn’t even hesitate to give it to her, watching as instead of putting it on the side table she took a long swig of it.

Her face scrunched as it burned down her throat. With a sigh, she sat next to George, giving him a small smile. 

“I thought maybe I was done with this.” He confessed, resignation in his voice and also maybe a little bit of shame; that was new for him. “I’m sorry.”

Morgan looked at him, a small shake of her head. “Never apologize for this.” George softened when she said that. “I’ve found my mom in the same way, middle of the night. I did it too, but often alone in questionable places.” She gave him a grin. “I didn’t want to tell you about my dad’s death, mostly because I felt like it didn’t compare.”

George gave her a confused look and she continued. “I felt guilty because I got to say goodbye. I realized, after being here in London, how… you guys had a really bad few years there.” That was an understatement. “Didn’t think I could help you. I couldn’t even help myself and…”

“Morgan, a loss is a loss.” George stopped her, “You know I would never-“

“I know. I do, really. But my mom told me that being in a relationship means that there’s a reliance on each other that you just have. It’s natural. You don’t have to ask or force the other person into it. You just know when I need you, and I know when you need me.” George smiled at her, a hand reaching to cup one of her cheeks. “She was right.” She put her hand over his. 

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight.” George let out with a breath.

“Then we stay here, all night. And I do the only thing that ever worked for me when I couldn’t sleep.” Eyebrows raised, Morgan patted her lap. “Head here, Weasley.” He smirked at her as he adjusted his body, both of them getting comfortable. “Now I’m going to play with your hair and sing you no-maj songs just like my dad used to do for me. Okay?” George gave a small nod. 

_Pale September, I wore the time like a dress that year  
The autumn days swung soft around me, like cotton on my skin  
But as the embers of the summer lost their breath and disappeared  
My heart went cold and only hollow rhythms resounded from within  
But then he rose, brilliant as the moon in full  
And sank in the burrows of my keep  
And all my armor falling down in a pile at my feet  
And my winter giving way to warm, as I'm singing him to sleep_

_He goes along just as a water lily  
Gentle on the surface of his thoughts his body floats  
Unweighted down by passion or intensity  
Yet unaware of the depth upon which he coasts  
And he finds a home in me  
For what misfortune sows, he knows my touch will reap  
And all my armor failing down in a pile at my feet  
And my winter giving way to warm, as I'm singing him to sleep_


	14. you're absolutely diabolical, I love it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ emotions ~

“If I stick myself one more time because you refuse to stay still, I swear I will use your ass as a pin cushion, do not test me.” Morgan was getting annoyed as George kept moving around. He was fidgety, that was always clear. But out of the entirety of his family, he was the one giving her the hardest time. 

“Never really considered getting poked in the bum before…” He brought his hands up to his chin and smirked. He could see that she was actually getting impatient and he twirled a piece of her hair in his hands. “I’m sorry, I am. Stick me wherever you want. I’ll be good. Promise.”

“And yet somehow I don’t ever believe that when you say it.” Morgan was tucking in pieces of fabric and pining them. “How is it that you and Bill are literally so tall and lanky? If my grandmother saw you she’d tell you to eat more. _Morgan you need to fatten that man up! What’re you feedin’ him!?_ ” She put on her authentic southern accent and George laughed. 

It took her about another twenty minutes before she was done poking George. “Alright, you’re done. Send in the groom please.” George kissed her quickly before Ron shuffled in with his head hanging low.

“Why do you look like you’re about to cry? George had me poking myself with pins more than I poked him, I swear.” Morgan offered and Ron sighed. 

“You’re not using the dress robs mum wanted us to have, right?”

“Absolutely not.” Morgan laughed and Ron perked up a little bit. “It’s _your_ wedding, why would anyone else pick the attire?” Ron opened up to her a bit while she fitted him. “Okay, here we go.” Morgan waved her wand and the mirror came over. 

“Blimey, where were you during our fourth year? The dress robes my mum sent for the Yule Ball made me look like a cake decoration. I look good in these.” Ron stood a little taller, angling himself to check the robes out. 

“You look very handsome. Hermione might have competition for the best dressed.” Ron smiled at her and nodded with a thanks. “But until then I need that back to make sure it fits you correctly. Molly next, please.”

The matriarch of the Weasley family came in. Morgan realized she had never actually been alone with her before. She turned around while Molly got herself into her dress and Morgan beamed when she turned around. “Oh, this color looks amazing on you.” By a miracle, Hermione and Morgan had convinced her to wear a muted color. The dress was Mauve and light in material. She knew wizard weddings were a bit more colorful than no-maj ones. Hermione wanted a balance. Morgan was trying to deliver the attire that she wanted, at least.

The room was quiet as Morgan worked on the hemline, the bust line, the neckline. Eventually Molly cleared her throat. “Morgan, I did want to thank you. For everything you’ve done for Georgie.” Morgan stopped, a puzzled look on her face. “He hasn’t come around this much in so long. I don’t want to start crying, not when this is such a happy occasion. But I did want to say that.”

“Molly, you raised quite the young man.” Morgan offered. “He’s helped me as much as I like to think I’ve helped him. 

Whatever Morgan was doing at Madam Malkin’s, she was doing it right. Their business was booming and Madam Malkin was in search of another seamstress to add because of their recent pickup in orders. Morgan was looking forward to lunch but there was a wait and she pulled the next person over to measure them.

She had darker skin, flawless and glowing. She was beautiful. She briefly told Morgan what she wanted and Morgan began taking her measurements. “You’re American. We don’t get a lot of you over here.”

“Yeah, I’m realizing we are few and far between. It’s been a little bit of an adjustment.” Morgan continued making small talk with her, but something felt off. It was like she was watching every single move that Morgan made. It was pretty uncomfortable. She finished up and exited the shop, figuring she could go visit George since she wasn’t that hungry. She rounded the corner to his shop and saw George talking to the woman who she had just measure not even fifteen minutes before.

They looked like they were almost arguing, whatever it was they were talking about, it was serious. Morgan felt that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach again. George looked like he had been defeated, by whatever the woman said and ran his hands through his hair. 

Then they hugged.

But it wasn’t just a hug. It lingered, far more than a normal friendly hug did. Or was Morgan just thinking too much into it? She didn’t think it was coincidence that the woman had come to her shop and then immediately went to George’s. Suddenly she didn’t want to go visit him during her break. She felt like every emotion she had was trapped in the pit of her stomach as the woman kissed George’s cheek in a very familiar way. 

She thought she might hurl.

Instead she collected herself and went back to the shop. She took the rest of the day and went to George’s flat. She knew he wouldn’t be there at this time. She packed up some of her essential things and apparated back to her mom’s flat. She hadn’t fully moved into George’s yet and now she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see him. Why did she feel like this?

Morgan sat in front of her sewing machine and just began working on projects. She didn’t keep track of the time, ignored her phone ringing. She barely heard her mom come in after work and ask if everything was okay. She just sewed. 

She didn’t have to think while she did it. It was simple; cut, press, pin, press, sew. Finish. Press. A wonderful, reliable process that had never let her down. If she didn’t like the end result, all Morgan needed to do was rip the seam out and begin again.

Did she need to rip the seam out and begin again?

Morgan stared at her hands, trembling now in front of her. She had a blister on her foot from using the manual pedal on the machine and stupidly wearing new shoes while she did it. She ignored the knock on the door. She ignored George’s presence behind her as he asked if she was okay.

Morgan would hear a few words, Rosalind didn’t know what was bothering her but this was typical for Morgan. When she was upset she would lock herself in her room and do this for days. George was concerned. George was also so confused. They had been getting so far in telling each other when they were having bad days.

“Morgan, what is going on?” He said in a desperate voice but she ignored him. “Please? You took your stuff out of the flat so I know this has to do with me.”

“Go home, George.” Was all she managed to say, angrily grabbing a pair of scissors to cut her thread.

“No,” He said it with an attitude and grabbed one of the dining room chairs and set it down next to Morgan. “I’m not going home without you.”

Morgan just raised her eyebrows in a face that said ‘fine, have it your way’, as she continued on with her current project — a pair of pants.

This lasted for hours; George with his arms crossed overs chest while Morgan worked. Eventually, around 2am, Morgan got up because her vision was blurry and she really couldn’t see properly anymore. She went into the bathroom and came back out. She grabbed a blanket and a pillow from the closet and got herself comfortable on the couch. George just watched her. “I’m still not leaving.”

Silence.

“Morgan, I can’t fix whatever I did if you don’t tell me what I did. I’m a fucking moron, you know that!” 

Silence again. But then she felt bad. She felt bad that she made him sit there for nearly 8 hours while she ignored him. Morgan sat up on the couch. “I had a customer right before I went on break. Beautiful woman, flawless skin, a body to die for. She was well traveled, but was examining me the whole time. Observant. Definitely taking notes on me in her head. I felt weird. Whatever, it’s customer service right? People are weird.”

“So I leave to come see you and I’m about three stores away when I see the same woman and you talking outside of your shop. It looked serious, I didn’t want to bother you. Then you hugged. And she kissed you on the cheek. And I felt everything in me just dip. Not because of the hug or the kiss on the cheek, because I could tell that she knew you, and she knew you _well_. Because I don’t know who she is, and she had come to do some sort of assessment on me before seeing you.”

“It’s me. I saw you together and I thought to myself how much she must know about your life before I met you. How she probably knew Fred and mourned him and here I was, _an American_ just strutting into everyone’s lives. What do I know? It’s me. I’m insecure.”

George sat quiet for a second. He really hadn’t expected that to be the cause of why she was upset. He rubbed his face with his hands, knowing that he would have to explain everything to her. He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Her name is Angelina Johnson. She went to school with Fred and me. I always had a thing for her, Fred caught onto it. He brought her to the Yule Ball to annoy me, but he didn’t realize how much it _really_ bothered me. I told you, Fred was the one willing to act.” 

“As time went on they got friendlier, went on a few dates. I pretended like it didn’t bother me. It did. A lot. Then… the war happened.” He was quiet again. “She approached me first, we started dating. She brought me a lot of happiness when I was… I was in a much worse place, let’s just say. I was serious about her. I wanted it all. Wedding, kids, even told her she didn’t have to work since the shop was doing so well.”

Morgan didn’t like the direction this story was going, but she wanted to hear it. “I overheard her one morning telling one of our friends, Katie, that ‘well if she couldn’t be with Fred, at least she could be with me’ and I lost it. I went to that same pub I brought you to on our first date and slept with someone. Two days later, did it again. It took her almost three months to figure out, that’s how little she paid attention.” George let out a laugh. “I never told her why I did it. I never told anyone, I just let everyone think I was a huge prick.”

“It’s easier to not explain anything than to explain everything.” Morgan offered. She knew how that went.

George nodded. “What you saw before was me apologizing for cheating on her. I still didn’t tell her why I did it. She mad me so fucking angry at my dead brother. My dead brother.” He said it as he spaced out for a second. “I suspect she came to see you, and possibly warn you. But I could tell when she saw me she knew I was different.”

“I fell in love with you so fast because you didn’t know me before. Everyone expects me to be George, half of the Weasley twins but I’m just George. You never looked at me as half of a whole part. Everyone has my whole life, and if Fred was still here I don’t think it would bother me. But he’s not, and it does. Don’t be insecure that you didn’t know who I was or that you didn’t know Fred. Please, Morgan.”

He swallowed hard and looked at the floor. George knew he would’ve had to tell her about Angelina and Fred and how even now it’s still hard to not be living in the shadow of his other half. Morgan got up and just climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry George.”

“Shhh,” He buried his head in her neck. “No need for apologies. And please don’t ever feel insecure, you are who I want. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”  
“You sat here for 8 hours in silence watching me work. I don’t know what else I _could_ do to get you to leave me alone.”

“I don’t mind watching you work. It’s the bloody noise, though. That thing is loud.” Morgan just smiled. 

Ginny was pregnant. It was revealed at the next family lunch. And it had come with a flashy and expensive ring that Harry Potter could most definitely afford. Harry mouthed “You’re next” to George who just laughed every time. 

“You’re going to scare poor Morgan.” George teased, petting her on the head like she was an animal or a child.

“Seriously, this house is like a walking anti-contraceptive charm.” George snorted. “I’m considering the arms length rule again.” Morgan teased.   
“How long before you think Hermione is pregnant?” George offered, his voice low.

“She has to be the first, I bet she’s already pregnant and they haven’t told anyone since the wedding is back on next month.” Morgan countered.  
“Ohhh you’re absolutely diabolical and I love it. Ginny’s was definitely an oops.” 

“One galleon says it wasn’t, Ron couldn’t keep his mouth shut and told Harry, who practically drools at Teddy every time he’s here. He is the epitome of baby fever… and he begged Ginny and promised that she could go back to playing Quidditch. He’d stay home with the kid.” George looked at her so impressed.

“I love you so much, but I cannot wait for you to pay me a galleon because you’re so wrong.” There was a hint of disappointment on his face as Morgan laughed. 

The burrow was such a serene place for Morgan; it reminded her of the open fields in the rural of Georgia. Summer’s sun was going down and the kiss of evening was coming, it was wonderful to get out of London and be able to breathe. She was trying to get Victoire to walk, the stubborn little girl went straight for the mud every time. Fleur was on the other side of the puddle, Bill and George were drinking beer and Ginny and Hermione were talking about wedding and baby things. Hermione stood up from the picnic table, looked uneasy, bent over and puked.

Morgan just held her hand out for George to put the coin in it. “How are you so bloody good at that?” He whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“She hasn’t had wine in three weeks. It’s a woman thing. We pick up on that stuff.” Still, Morgan did a little victory dance, rubbing her fingers together to signify she was going to be rich from all these bets.

George laughed, grabbing her and put his arm around her waist, and playfully danced with her. “How can you have mud on the bottom of your dress, kick my arse in a bet, and definitely have mashed banana in your hair from Victoire, and still look so sexy?”

“It’s a talent, really. Or all the love potions I’ve been slipping you.” She covered her mouth acting like she had let a big secret out and George smiled wide. “Spin me, Weasley.” He obliged, pulling her closer than he had her before.


	15. last night of freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't start this story with much of a plot/line in mind. However Morgan and George's relationship has been amazing to write. As long as I have something to go on, I will be updating. Thanks for reading!
> 
> * also 18+ mature content ahead *

Hermione was, in fact, pregnant. She was about a month ahead of Ginny and due to the fact that she was gaining weight, they moved the wedding up two weeks and decided to have it in the Weasley’s yard like Bill and Fleur did. What preceded it was two days of everyone packed in the burrow for festivities. 

Morgan’s mother was even invited to come to dinner one night. Charlie Weasley finally made his presence known, and he was odd like George had said, but he was hilarious and quite energetic like George was.

While the sun was still out the boys decided to play Quidditch — which would be Morgan’s official introduction to the game. She sat with the ladies, chatting and talking about the dresses for the wedding. She hadn’t even been paying attention to the supposed game that was happening, because all they could really hear was yelling back and forth. If she squinted she could see George barely, with a bat in his hand in the air.

This lasted for about an hour before the men all made their way back to the house. Morgan stopped as George approached her. She gave him the once over. He was sweaty, dirt all over his face. She glanced to his hands, gripping his broom and bit her bottom lip. Jesus, this man looked damn good after playing Quidditch. He gave her a smirk, leaned in to kiss her and mentioned that he was going to go change. 

She was sad, watching him walk away while he looked like that. But five minutes later, his head was out a window yelling for her. “Morgan Davenport, you have my clothes in that expandable bag of yours. I know you want me naked 24/7, but for Merlin’s sake, we are at _my parents house, for my brothers wedding, woman!_ ” Of course he yelled it out of the window and everyone snickered as Morgan’s cheeks flushed.

“I swear when I get up there…” She made sure to say that loud enough so everyone could hear it. She’d only been upstairs in the house a few times, usually to help Fleur with Victoire or to get her from a nap. She didn’t know which bedroom was which, but she was sure as hell stomping around the stairs to let him know she was on her way.

George popped out of a room, snaking his arm around Morgan’s waist and pulled her in. He cast a lock and silencing charm and kissed her hard, pushing her against the back of the door.

“Thank the lord,” She mumbled it against him, pulling his head up to get a good look at him. “I swear if your whole family wasn’t out there I would’ve tackled you to the damn ground.” 

“Told you I could seduce you with Quidditch.” He teased, his hand gripping her thigh. He smelled like grass and his sweat tasted salty but she didn’t care. 

“Grip me like you hold that bat.” Morgan smirked and he moaned, his mouth kissing every part of her neck he could get. “Wait, “ She breathed, turning herself around so she was up against the door. “I don’t have a change of clothes. Just my dress for tomorrow.” 

George just looked at her from this angle and slowly used his hand to lift her dress up above her waist. “I really don’t want this to be quick,” He groaned in disappointment as Morgan pushed herself against his crotch, grinding on him. “Fucking hell, Morgan.” He griped her hips.

He was pushing her panties down to her knees and pulled himself out of his pants. He entered her with a hard thrust and they both moaned. “Hard,” She grabbed one of his hands and made him squeeze her hip. “I want to know there’s marks from you under my dress for the rest of the night.”

“Fuck,” He started moving inside of her, easily speeding up as they found what worked best for them. “Gonna come in you, then rub you through your soaked knickers during dessert.” 

“ _Good lord_ ,” Morgan’s hand went to her clit. George was grabbing onto her, slamming into her like she told him and she wanted his hands to stay there. “Fuck, George I’m gonna-“ She had never gotten to an orgasm this quick before but with her fingers on her clit and the constant thrusts from behind she could feel herself building.

“That’s right, love. You like being fucked from behind like this?” He whispered it in her ear and her whole body shivered. She could only moan out an “uhhuh” and nod her head as he clenched his jaw to keep up his thrusts.

“Oh god, George. Oh my-“ Her words just turned into one staggered moan as she buckled under him, he wrapped an arm around her waist as he continued feeling her tighten against him. She yelled as she came, pushing her hips as far back against him as she could. The spasm of her around him caught him by surprise and he came hard and deep inside of her. 

George still had one hand on her hip and the other around her as he tried to catch his breath. “I swear you are a fucking goddess.” He rested his forehead between her shoulder blades and peppered light kisses there. 

Morgan sighed, “If I don’t go back soon they’re going to get suspicious.” 

“I don’t care, I’ll tell all of them we needed a quickie in my childhood bedroom.” Morgan laughed and looked around. Sure enough, this was definitely his bedroom. Quidditch posters, what looked like blueprints and recipes tacked to the wall. She managed to pry herself away from him and he kissed her. Slow and passionately.

“I love you,” She mumbled it against his lips.

“I love you, you bloody insatiable woman now get out of here before I get another hard on, you’re working me all up again.” He gave her a few lazy kisses and helped her pull her panties back up and fix her hair before she escaped.

George had his clothes the whole time.

Morgan got downstairs just in time to help Molly with dessert. Everyone decided to eat outside since it was so nice, and George came down looking highly disappointed when he heard that. The tables outside were not so easy to hide under and he looked like someone just kicked his puppy.

There were people still over that Morgan was only just meeting for the first time. She took out her wand and helped Molly move a bunch of the trays over. 

“Why is your wand like that?” Luna came over to her, and Morgan looked down at her wand. She was sure Luna must have seen it when they had their first dress measurements.

“Like… what?” She didn’t see anything different.

“Oh, you have an American wand, may I see it?” Morgan shrugged and handed it over. George, Bill, and Neville walked over and George gave Morgan a questionable look. Again, Morgan just shrugged. “It’s longer than our wands. What is is made of?”

Morgan took the opportunity. She pouted a bit and let her southern drawl roll low off her lips. “That there is a twelve inch southern yellow pine wand with a Quetzalcoatl Quill. I was meant to get my wand in New Orleans, but none of the wands I tried worked. So the owner shipped the quill to the wand maker in Charleston. And that’s a classic Charleston style wand — sleek, smooth, and if you notice,” Morgan gently turned the wand over, revealing an inscription. “Right here it has a rune for artistry carved into it.”

All of the men looked impressed. “This wand really loves you, Morgan. It hums when you touch it.” Luna smiled, “What makes your wands different from ours? I recently started to study wand lore as a hobby. I haven’t seen an American one before.”

“I’m not really sure. I know that in America a lot of wands cast differently with different cores. The quill in mine usually has brighter colors. I don’t cast many charms, protection spells… but my colors are very vibrant. Your expelliarmus spell is usually…”

“Red,” Bill offered since Luna was staring at Morgan’s wand still.

“Mine is pink. Like actually bright, neon pink.”

“Wicked, let’s see it.” George wiggled his eyebrows.

“I am horrible at anything like that, let’s not. My wand is very tailored to creative spells and not dueling.”

“Funny how wands know, right?” Luna smiled again and handed Morgan’s wand back to her, walking off. Morgan didn’t know what to think but George looked insulted.

“Wait, you said twelve inches? This is complete rubbish, she’s got a bigger wand than me!” 

“George Weasley!” Molly was hollering at her troublemaker son who was currently using Accio to grab bottles of alcohol from the kitchen to the top floor, where a group of them were hanging out. “If any of those shatter I swear I will have your head!!!” 

Everyone laughed and George remerged with three bottles. He did a quick head count. “Welp, we only have three glasses and there’s six of us so… guess we’re drinking from the bottle, folks.”

Morgan was the only female left, all the other girls had gone back to Hermione and Ron’s flat since it was the night before the wedding and Molly Weasley was highly superstitious. It left her with Ron, Harry, George, Neville, and Charlie all gathered on the roof. Morgan knew that the brothers could feel the missing presence of Fred. But she also knew well enough that none of them would acknowledge it.

“Last night of freedom, Ron.” Harry lightly smacked his back. 

“Oh please, Harry. Both of you went from war to daddies in an instant.” George chuckled and Charlie tapped his bottle against George’s bottle. “Wait, did you guys even shag anyone before… everything was over?”

Harry and Ron looked awkward and Morgan snorted. Everyone looked at her. “Sorry, it’s just Ilvermorny was… let’s just say I’d never want to bring a blacklight into those dorms.” Harry laughed at her comment, the others were confused. “No-maj, sorry, muggle thing. I’ll explain when you’re older.”

“I thought we were all virgins?” Ron looked at Neville and George. Neville looked understanding, George’s eyes were wide and he shook his head. Charlie and Morgan started laughing and passed a bottle back and forth between them.

“Bless their hearts,” Morgan put her hand over her heart. “Oh come on now, George is saving himself until marriage.” This made Charlie try not to spit his alcohol out of his mouth.

“If George is a virgin I’m the Queen.” Charlie teased. 

“Well, who did you shag?” Ron asked George, seeming a little annoyed.

“Katie Bell and I did it,” George shrugged. “We didn’t want to leave school as virgins so we went up to the pitch and did the dirty. It was awful, and over in like five minutes. Charlie?”

“Ravenclaw girl, Laura. She was the biggest pain in my arse on the field. So we settled our tensions in other… ways. Her ex boyfriend joined in a few times.” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows and Morgan cracked up. “Your turn, Ms. Davenport.” Charlie handed her a bottle.

“Oh lord,” She took a long sip before wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “Sixth year, at a house party, he ripped my leggings which I had _just made_ and I got so annoyed I wouldn’t let him finish.” 

“Bloody hell.. that’s mean.” Ron laughed, “You better watch yourself, Georgie.” 

“I…” Neville cleared his throat. “I did snog Mandy Brocklehurst in Hogsmeade and she gave me a handy.”

“There you go, Neville!” George patted him on the back. 

“Well, I’m okay with Hermione and I being the only people we’ve shagged.” Ron said it so nonchalantly and George snorted. 

“GOODNIGHT MORGAN! I LOVE YOU I WILL MISS YOU AS YOU SLEEP ON A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT LEVEL OF THIS HOUSE THAN ME,” George was yelling, clearly drunk, and everyone was yelling back for him to shut up as he shoved Morgan through the door to his room, locking it after he closed it. It was very obvious Morgan was not sleeping where she was expected to. He moved to Morgan, unzipping her dress from behind. He kissed her shoulder as he did it. 

Morgan turned around, her hands unbuttoning his shirt as he softly pulled the fabric of her dress down off of her shoulders. “You’re good?” She asked, and George swallowed hard.

“Yeah, I think I am. Tomorrow I’m going to bet mum won’t be. It’ll be… it’ll be a day.” He sighed, running a hand through her hair. “C’mon let’s shag on my bed. Never got to do it there before.” 

Morgan laughed as he tugged her hand. “Well you shared a room with Fred…”

“Oh, he managed to do it, though.”

“Really? Wow.”

“He shagged Hermione.” George gave Morgan a pointed look and Morgan covered her mouth with her hands. “Though when I think back on it she might have thought it was me.” George contemplated for a minute before laughing. 

“You can never tell Ron that.” Morgan shook her head, her eyes still wide in shock.


	16. once you've been to one debutante ball you've been to them all

Morgan was running around like a chicken without a head. One Weasley man after another were lining up in front of her, all complaining that their dress robes weren’t fitting correctly. She had all of them lined up in a row in the living room, and shook her head. “George, you have Bill’s robes. Bill, you’re in Arthur’s robes. Arthur, you have Charlie’s robes and Charlie, you have George’s robes.” All of the men then looked down at the garments they were wearing. “Look on the inside jacket, I put your initials on them.”

A bunch of oh’s and oops followed as they all shuffled off to switch their robes. Fleur and Morgan got Victoire dressed in her adorable flower girl dress. Harry brought Teddy, who was apparently matching his hair to his burgundy suit. She grabbed Harry’s robes and shooed him upstairs to get dressed. 

Her and Molly were paying too much attention to the clock, knowing that Hermione and the other ladies were due to arrive any minute. Morgan could see Molly wrought with nerves because she was persistent on Ron not seeing Hermione before the ceremony. Morgan thought it was adorable. 

“All of you, outside! Let’s go!” Molly was yelling as each red headed Weasley sheepishly left the house for the tent outside. George gave Morgan a wink as he casually strolled by. The ladies arrived not fit minutes later and Morgan took a deep breath as she prepared herself for round two.

Hermione looked like a princess. She didn’t have to do much, really. Pin her hair up, and Molly and Ginny grabbed sprigs of baby’s breath and tucked them into her loose bun. She put on a bit of blush and mascara, a bit of red pigment on her lips. What had always made Hermione stand out, though, was her knowing what she wanted and (mostly) knowing how to get it. Morgan fumbled with her hemline for a minute, hand sewing a few centimeters up so the material wouldn’t drag on the floor. 

Molly began crying not ten minutes before the ceremony was due to start. Morgan reached Luna finally, fixing a bit of chiffon that had a warped ruffle before she gave everyone another once over. “You all look beautiful.” She nodded in approval. “Hermione, you are stunning. Hands down, most beautiful bride I’ve seen. Good luck, see you soon!” She gave a quick wave, there was no way she was going to hug any of them and wrinkle a dress. 

The sun was hot in the sky and Morgan was so grateful for magic when she entered the tent and it was like walking into a different climate. Ron stood at the front of the tent looking like he was about to puke, and the other gentlemen scurried out to walk in with the bridesmaids. 

Morgan cried during the ceremony, because she was sucker for weddings. She wasn’t a blubbering mess, but it touched her. Their vows got more intense than anyone thought, and the Ministry official tried to break the tension when he announced it was finally time for Ron to kiss his witch, oops. He meant wife.

Next were pictures, and Morgan found herself wandering around, trying to help out as much as she could. She was pinning up a part of the tent that kept draping when a woman approached her. She looked rather indifferent, very well dressed and smiled politely. “I was told that you are Ms. Davenport, the seamstress who made the dresses and robes for this lovely occasion?”

Morgan stopped what she was doing and stuck her pins in the fabric. “I am, can I help you with something?”

The woman cleared her throat and nodded quickly. “Yes, I was wondering if you might be willing to alter some of my gowns and robes. Privately, if it would be alright with you. It would be much easier for you to come to me.” Morgan had a feeling she was hold back details, but if she was willing to pay her to go to her house it must mean she was desperate. “My name is Narcissa Malfoy.” She held her hand out with her name and address. “Please send an owl if you think it might be something you could do.”

It was clear the woman was either embarrassed or just didn’t feel comfortable discussing more details in such a public space. “Absolutely. I don’t think that would be a problem, I would be happy to help.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes went to a tall man walking over with platinum blonde hair and eyes that could probably shoot lasers out of them if equipped properly. He had a very solemn resolve and approached the women with his hands in the pants pockets of his suit. Narcissa’s eyes got warmer when she saw him and she gave him a very sincere smile. “This is my son, Draco. He might also have some items that need to be tailored.”

Morgan just gave a half smile and nodded. The cold looking man said nothing as he raised his eyebrows. “Of course, I will definitely be in touch Mrs. Malfoy.”

“American?” Draco had the annunciation and attitude of a very privileged boy, and Morgan could hear the judgement in his voice.

 _Fucking obviously._ Morgan thought as she just smiled and nodded. If this hadn’t been Ron and Hermione’s wedding and these people didn’t have money judging by the fabric on both of their outfits, she would’ve said it. “Seems to be quite a surprise around these parts.” She tried to make a joke but Draco just narrowed his eyes and looked Morgan up and down.

Morgan just turned back to her task, hoping that this weird man would walk away from her. Instead, Narcissa went back to speak to someone and Draco stayed where he was, hands in his pockets casually. “Your dress is lovely. The silk jacquard is very detailed. The color compliments your skin tone.”

She was sure she had never heard such a technical compliment in her life and she turned to look at Draco. “You know what silk jacquard is?”

This got a minuscule smirk out of him, and he eased his stance a little bit. “I do. I spent a lot of time at generally useless society parties and overheard a lot of conversations that resulted in my having random knowledge of things that have very few chances of being a topic of interest.” Morgan didn’t say anything, but Draco gave a small nod. “Well then, I’ll let you get back to your task. I’ll see you soon, Ms. Davenport.” 

Morgan shook off the weird feeling she got from the Malfoy’s and finished up with the tent and made her way back to the group of people who she knew. Things were still hectic. She took a seat with Neville and some of the other friends Ron and Hermione had from school as the bridal party all came in. Morgan was surprised how much they were going with a no-maj structured wedding, but given Hermione’s background Morgan was glad they did.

They had a first dance, which was when Morgan got up to go and use the bathroom before the actual reception started. She hadn’t spotted George, but she was trying to see if she could find him. She was nearly out of the tent as couples went dance with the newlyweds and someone grabbed her. 

She thought it was George, but when she turned around, it was Draco Malfoy. “Dance with me,” Apparently it wasn’t a question, and Morgan wasn’t about to scream and yell during Ron and Hermione’s first dance, so she obliged. 

“Only because I don’t feel like causing a ruckus during the newlywed’s first dance as husband and wife.” She was clearly annoyed as she looked around for George.

“You’re a very competent dancer.”

“Well, once you’ve been to one debutante ball you’ve been to them all.” She wasn’t paying attention to Draco, still trying to scan the crowd for George. She was about to tell Draco to shove it when he grabbed her a little tighter, his mouth at the perfect height for him to speak low into her ear.

“What is someone like you doing at a Weasley wedding?” 

“What is someone _like you_ doing at a Weasley wedding? Last time I checked the Weasley’s weren’t stuck up or grabbing women at parties without their permission.”

Draco gave her a look, but not one that meant he was insulted. More like he was examining Morgan and was curious about her. “So they invited you simply because you dressed the wedding party?”

Morgan didn’t answer right away, because every time he opened his mouth she resisted the urge to punch him in his jaw. She was grinding her jaw when she saw George walking very annoyed towards her and Draco and she breathed a sigh of relief. “They invited me because I am a damn good seamstress, yes. But mostly they invited me because I’m banging that redheads brains out every night.” She tried to hold back a laugh as George approached them. Draco turned to see George and gave him a questionable look.

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend, Malfoy.” George was taller, but Draco looked more intimidating. Still, George crossed his arms over his chest and gave Draco a shit eating grin. Bill and Charlie weren’t far behind him. “You know I’ll be sure to remember that you danced with Morgan first tonight at your wedding this fall to Astoria.” Draco looked uneasy and let go of Morgan’s hands. “Ah, no witty comment? Still remembering that time I gave you a broken nose on the Quidditch field?”

Draco didn’t say a word, he just slowly left the dance floor. George slipped his arm around Morgan’s waist and she used her tiptoes to kiss him quickly. “Who the hell was that?”

“That is Potter’s mortal enemy, former Death Eater, Draco Malfoy. He and his mother got invited because my mother is a sucker for redemption and he recently got a job at the Ministry. His father is in Azkaban on a life sentence. Draco just got out, he did a year and a half. Got off on a lot because he was a minor. But the Malfoy’s were a very high society pureblood family. Since the war, no one wants to associate with them.”

Everything was making sense why Narcissa approached her. It was pretty obvious their robes were higher end. “Narcissa asked me to tailor her and Draco’s clothes. At their house.”

“Manor.” George corrected her with a laugh.

“Of course they have a manor, what was I thinking?” 

“Honestly, couldn’t you tell by his leather shoes and aura of arrogance?”

“He knows was silk jacquard is, I just thought he probably… wasn’t interested in women.”

George beamed. “Oh yes, let’s go with that excuse. _Please._ ”


End file.
